r 


LIBRARY 


TO  THE  READER. 


These  two  translations,  "  Meister's  Apprenticeship  "  and  "  Meister's 
Travels,"  have  long  been  out  of  print,  but  never  altogether  out  of 
demand  ;  nay,  it  would  seem,  the  originally  somewhat  moderate  de- 
mand has  gone  on  increasing,  and  continues  to  increase.  They  are 
therefore  here  republished  ;  and  the  one  being  in  some  sort  a  sequel 
to  the  other,  though  in  rather  unexpected  sort,  they  are  now  printed 
together.  The  English  version  of  "  Meister's  Travels"  has  been  ex- 
tracted, or  extricated,  from  a  compilation  of  very  various  quality 
named  "  German  Romance  ";  and  placed  by  the  side  of  the  "Appren- 
ticeship," its  forerunner,  which,  in  the  translated  as  in  the  original 
state,  appeared  hitherto  as  a  separate  work. 

In  the  "  Apprenticeship,"  the  first  of  these  translations,  which  was 
executed  some  fifteen  years  ago,  under  questionable  auspices,  I  have 
made  many  little  changes  ;  but  could  not,  unfortunately,  change  it 
into  a  right  translation  :  it  hung,  in  many  places,  stiff  and  labored, 
too  like  some  unfortunate  buckram  cloak  round  the  light  harmonious 
movement  of  the  original  ;  and,  alas,  still  hangs  so,  here  and  there  ; 
and  may  now  hang.  In  the  second  translation,  "  Meister's  Travels," 
two  years  later  in  date,  I  have  changed  little  or  nothing  :  I  might 
have  added  much  ;  for  the  original,  since  that  time,  was  as  it  were 
taken  to  pieces  by  the  author  himself  in  his  last  years,  and  constructed 
anew  ;  and  in  the  final  edition  of  his  works  appears  with  multifa- 
rious intercalations,  giving  a  great  expansion  both  of  size  and  of  scope. 
Not  pedagogy  only,  and  husbandry  and  art  and  religion  and  human 
conduct  in  the  nineteenth  century,  but  geology,  astronomy,  cotton- 
spinning,  metallurgy,  anatomical  lecturing,  and  much  else,  are 
typically  shadowed  forth  in  this  second  form  of  the  "Travels"; 
which,  however,  continues  a  fragment  like  the  first,  significantly 
pointing  on  all  hands  towards  infinitude  ;  not  more  complete  than 
the  first  was,  or  indeed  perhaps  less  so.     It  will  well  reward  the 

(iii) 


Iv  TO  THE  READER. 

trustful  student  of  Goethe  to  read  this  new  form  of  the  "  Travels  "; 
and  see  how  in  that  great  mind,  beaming  in  mildest  mellow  splendor, 
beaming,  if  also  trembling,  like  a  great  sun  on  the  verge  of  the  hori- 
zon, near  now  to  its  long  farewell,  all  these  things  were  illuminated 
and  illustrated  ;  but  for  the  mere  English  reader  there  are  probably 
in  our  prior  edition  of  the  "  Travels  "  already  novelties  enough  ;  for 
us,  at  all  events,  it  seemed  unadvisable  to  meddle  with  it  farther  at 
l)resent. 

Goethe's  position  towards  the  English  public  is  greatly  altered  since 
these  translations  first  made  their  appearance.  Criticisms,  near  the 
mark,  or  farther  from  the  mark,  or  even  altogether  far  and  away  from 
any  mark  ;  of  these  there  have  been  enough.  'These  pass  on  their 
road  ;  the  man  and  his  works  remain  what  tl^ey  are  and  were  ;  more 
and  more  recognizable  for  what  they  are.  Few  English  readers 
can  require  now  to  be  apprised  that  these  two  books,  named  novels, 
come  not  under  the  Minerva-press  category,  nor  the  Ballantyne- 
press  category,  nor  any  such  category  ;  that  the  author  is  one  whose 
secret,  by  no  means  worn  upon  his  sleeve,  will  never,  by  any  ingen- 
uity, be  got  at  in  that  way. 

For  a  translator,  in  the  present  case,  it  is  enough  to  reflect  that  he 
who  imports  into  his  own  country  any  true  delineation,  a  rationally- 
spoken  word  on  any  subject,  has  done  well.  '  Ours  is  a  wide  world, 
peaceably  admitting  many  different  modes  of  speech.  In  our  wide 
world  there  is  but  one  altogether  fatal  personage — the  dunce  ;  he  that 
speaks  i/'rationally,  that  sees  not,  and  yet  thinks  he  sees,  j  A  genuine 
seer  and  speaker,  under  what  conditions  soever,  shall  be  welcome  to 
us  :  lias  not  he  seen  somewhat  of  great  Nature  our  common  mother's 
bringing-forth  ;  seen  it,  loved  it,  laid  his  heart  open  to  it  and  to  the 
mother  of  it,  so  that  he  can  now  rationally  speak  it  for  us  ?  He  is 
our  brother,  and  a  good,  not  a  bad  man  ;  his  words  are  like  gold,  pre- 
cious, whether  stamped  in  our  mint,  or  in  what  mint  soever  stamped. 

T,  CaklyIiE. 
London,  1839. 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE 

TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION  OP  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


Whether  it  be  that  the  quantity  of  genius  among  ourselves  and 
the  French,  and  the  number  of  works  more  lasting  than  brass  pro- 
duced by  it,  have  of  late  been  so  considerable  as  to  make  us  inde. 
pendent  of  additional  supplies  ;  or  that,  in  our  ancient  aristocracy  of 
intellect,  we  disdain  to  be  assisted  by  the  Germans,  whom,  by  a  species 
of  second-sight,  we  have  discovered,  before  knowing  anything  about 
them,  to  be  a  tumid,  dreaming,  extravagant,  insane  race  of  mortals  ; 
certain  it  is,  that  hitherto  our  literary  intercourse  with  that  nation 
has  been  very  slight  and  precarious.  After  a  brief  period  of  not  too 
judicious  cordiality,  the  acquaintance  on  our  part  was  altogether 
dropped  :  nor,.in  the  few  years  since  we  partially  resumed  it,  have  our 
feelings  of  affection  or  esteem  been  materially  increased.  Our  trans- 
lators are  unfortunate  in  their  selection  or  execution,  or  the  public  is 
tasteless  and  absurd  in  its  demands  ;  for,  with  scarcely  more  than  one 
or  two  exceptions,  the  best  works  of  Germany  have  lain  neglected, 
or  worse  than  neglected,  and  the  Germans  are  yet  utterly  unknown 
to  us.  Kotzebue  still  lives  in  our  minds  as  the  representative  of  a 
nation  that  despises  him  ;  Schiller  is  chiefly  known  to  us  by  the  mon- 
strous production  of  his  boyhood  ;  and  Klopstock  by  a  hacked  and 
mangled  image  of  his  "  Messias,"  in  which  a  beautiful  poein  is  dis- 
torted into  a  theosophic  rhapsody,  and  the  brother  of  ^'irgil  and 
Racine  ranks  little  higher  than  the  author  of  ' '  Meditations  among  the 
Tombs." 

But  of  all  these  people  there  is  none  that  has  been  more  unjustly 
dealt  with  than  Johann  Wolfgang  von  Goethe.  For  half  a  century 
the  admiration,  we  might  almost  say  the  idol  of  his  countrymen,  to 
us  he  is  still  a  stranger.  His  name,  long  echoed  and  re-echoed  through 
reviews  and  magazines,  has  become  familiar  to  our  ears  ;  but  it  is  ft 

(V) 


vi  TBAIf'SLA  TOR 'S  PREFA  CE 

sound  and  nothing  more  ;  it  excites  no  definite  idea  in  almost  any 
mind.  To  such  as  know  him  by  the  faint  and  garbled  version  of  his 
"  Werter,"  Goethe  figures  as  a  sort  of  poetic  Heraclitus  ;  some  woe- 
begone hypochondriac,  whose  eyes  are  overflowing  with  perpetual 
tears,  whose  long  life  has  been  spent  in  melting  into  ecstasy  at  the 
sight  of  waterfalls,  and  clouds,  and  the  moral  sublime,  or  dissolving 
into  hysterical  wailings  over  hapless  love  stories  and  the  miseries  of 
human  life.  They  are  not  aware  that  Goethe  smiles  at  this  perform- 
ance of  his  youth  ;  or  that  the  German  Werter,  with  all  his  faults,  is 
a  very  different  person  from  his  English  namesake,  that  his  ' '  Sorrows  " 
are  in  the  original  recorded  in  a  tone  of  strength  and  sarcastic  empha- 
sis, of  which  the  other  offers  no  vestige,  and  intermingled  with  touches 
of  powerful  thought,  glimpses  of  a  philosophy  deep  as  it  is  bitter, 
which  our  sagacious  translator  has  seen  proper  wholly  to  omit.  Others 
again,  who  have  fallen  in  with  Retzsch's  ' '  Outlines  "  and  the  extracts 
from  "  Faust,"  consider  Goethe  as  a  wild  mystic,  a  dealer  in  demon- 
ology  and  osteology,  who  draws  attention  by  the  aid  of  skeletons  and 
evil  spirits,  whose  excellence  it  is  to  be  extravagant,  whose  chief  aim 
it  is  to  do  what  no  one  but  himself  has  tried.  The  tyro  in  German 
may  tell  us  that  the  charm  of  "  Faust "  is  altogether  unconnected  with 
its  preternatural  import  ;  that  the  work  delineates  the  fate  of  human 
enthusiasm  struggling  against  doubts  and  errors  from  within,  against 
skepticism,  contempt  and  selfishness  from  without ;  and  that  the 
witchcraft  and  magic,  intended  merely  as  a  shadowy  frame  for  so 
complex  and  mysterious  a  picture  of  the  moral  world  and  the  human 
soul,  are  introduced  for  the  purpose  not  so  much  of  being  trembled  at 
as  laughed  at.  The  voice  of  the  tyro  is  not  listened  to  ;  our  indolence 
takes  part  with  our  ignorance  ;  "Faust"  continues  to  be  called  a 
monster  ;  and  Goethe  is  regarded  as  a  man  of  "  some  genius,"  which 
he  has  perverted  to  produce  all  manner  of  misfashioned  prodigies  ; 
things  false,  abortive,  formless,  gorgons  and  hydras  and  chimeras 
dire. 

Now,  it  must  no  doubt  be  granted,  that  so  long  as  our  invaluable 
constitution  is  preserved  in  its  pristine  purity,  the  British  nation  may 
exist  in  a  state  of  comparative  prosperity  with  very  inadequate  ideas 
of  Goethe  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  the  present  arrangement  is  an  evil 
ip  its  kind  ;  slight,  it  is  true,  and  easy  to  be  borne,  yet  still  more  easy 


TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION.  vii 

to  be  remedied,  and  which  therefore  ought  to  have  been  remedied 
ere  now.  Minds  like  Goethe's  are  the  common  property  of  all  na- 
tions ;  and,  for  many  reasons,  all  should  have  correct  impressions  of 
them. 

It  is  partly  with  the  view  of  doing  something  to  supply  this  want, 
that  "  Wilhelm  Meister's  Lehrjahre"  is  now  presented  to  the  English 
public.  Written  in  its  author's  forty-fifth  year,  embracing  hints  or 
disquisitions  on  almost  every  leading  point  in  life  and  literature,  it 
affords  us  a  more  distinct  view  of  his  matured  genius,  his  manner  of 
thought  and  favorite  subjects,  than  any  of  his  other  works.  Nor  is 
it  Goethe  alone  whom  it  portrays  ;  the  prevailing  taste  of  Germany 
is  likewise  indicated  by  it.  Since  the  year  1795,  when  it  first  ap- 
peared at  Berlin,  numerous  editions  of  "  Meister  "  have  been  printed  : 
critics  of  all  ranks,  and  some  of  them  dissenting  widely  from  its  doc- 
trines, have  loaded  it  with  encomiums  ;  its  songs  and  poems  are 
familiar  to  every  German  ear  ;  the  people  read  it,  and  speak  of  it, 
with  an  admiration  approaching  in  many  cases  to  enthusiasm. 

That  it  will  be  equally  successful  in  England,  I  am  far  indeed  from 
anticipating.  Apart  from  the  above  considerations,  from  the  curi- 
osity, intelligent  or  idle,  which  it  may  awaken,  the  number  of  admir- 
ing, or  even  approving  judges  it  will  find  can  scarcely  fail  of  being 
very  limited.  To  the  great  mass  of  readers,  who  read  to  drive  away 
the  tedium  of  mental  vacancy,  employing  the  crude  phantasmagoria 
of  a  modern  novel,  as  their  grandfathers  employed  tobacco  and  diluted 
brandy,  "Wilhelm  Meister"  will  appear  beyond  endurance  weary, 
flat,  stale  and  unprofitable.  Those,  in  particular,  who  take  delight  in 
"  King  Cambyses's  vein,"  and  open  "Meister"  with  the  thought  of 
"  Werter  "  in  their  minds,  will  soon  pause  in  utter  dismay,  and  their 
paroxysm  of  dismay  will  pass  by  degrees  into  unspeakable  contempt. 
Of  romance  interest  there  is  next  to  none  in  "  Meister  " ;  the  characters 
are  samples  to  judge  of,  rather  than  persons  to  love  or  hate  ;  the  inci- 
dents are  contrived  for  other  objects  than  moving  or  affrighting  us  ; 
the  hero  is  a  milksop,  whom,  with  all  his  gifts,  it  takes  an  effort  to 
avoid  despising.  The  author  himself ,  far  from  "doing  it  in  a  pas- 
sion," wears  a  face  of  the  most  still  indifference  throughout  the 
whole  affair  ;  often  it  is  even  wrinkled  by  a  slight  sardonic  grin. 
For  the  friends  of  the  sublime,  then,  for  those  who  cannot  do  without 


viii  TRANSLA  TOR 'S  PREFA  OE 

heroical  sentiments  and  "moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field,"  there 
is  nothing  here  that  can  be  of  any  service. 

Nor  among  readers  of  a  far  higher  character  can  it  be  expected 
that  many  will  take  the  praiseworthy  pains  of  Germans,  reverential 
of  their  favorite  author,  and  anxious  to  hunt  out  his  most  elusive 
charms.  Few  among  iis  will  disturb  themselves  about  the  allegories 
and  typical  allusions  of  the  work  ;  will  stop  to  inquire  whether  it 
includes  a  remote  emblem  of  human  culture,  or  includes  no  such 
matter  ;  whether  this  is  a  light  airy  sketch  of  the  development  of 
man  in  all  his  endowments  and  faculties,  gradually  proceeding  from 
the  first  rude  exhibitions  of  puppets  and  mountebanks,  through  the 
perfection  of  poetic  and  dramatic  art,  iip  to  the  unfolding  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  religion,  and  the  greatest  of  all  arts,  the  art  of  life, — or  is 
nothing  more  than  a  bungled  piece  of  patch-work,  presenting  in  the 
shape  of  a  novel  much  that  should  have  been  suppressed  entirely,  or 
at  least  given  out  by  way  of  lecture.  Whether  the  characters  do  or 
do  not  represent  distinct  classes  of  men,  including  various  stages  of 
human  nature,  from  the  gay  material  vivacity  of  Philina  to  the  severe 
moral  grandeur  of  the  Uncle  and  the  splendid  accomplishment  of 
Lothario,  will  to  most  of  us  be  of  small  importance  :  and  the  ever- 
lasting disquisitions  about  plajs  and  players,  and  politeness  and  ac- 
tivity, and  art  and  nature,  will  weary  many  a  mind  that  knows  not 
and  heeds  not  whether  they  are  true  or  false.  Yet  every  man's  j  udg- 
ment  is,  in  this  free  country,  a  lamp  to  himself  :  whoever  is  displeased 
will  censure  ;  and  many,  it  is  to  be  feared,  will  insist  on  judging 
' '  Meister  "  by  the  common  rule,  and  what  is  worse,  condemning  it,  let 
Schlegel  bawl  as  loudly  as  he  pleases.  "To  judge,"  says  he,  "  of 
this  book, — new  and  peculiar  as  it  is,  and  only  to  be  understood  and 
learned  from  itself, — by  our  common  notion  of  the  novel,  a  notion 
pieced  together  and  produced  out  of  custom  and  belief,  out  of  acci- 
dental and  arbitrary  requisitions, — is  as  if  a  child  should  grasp  at 
the  moon  and  stars,  and  insist  on  packing  them  into  its  toy -box."* 
Unhappily,  the  most  of  us  have  boxes  ;  and  some  of  them  are  very 
small. 

Yet,  independently  of  these  its  more  recondite  and  dubious  quali- 
ties, there  are  beauties  in  "  Meister  "  which  cannot  but  secure  it  some 

*  "Charaktcristik  des  Meister." 


TO  TEE  FIRST  EDITION.  ix 

degree  of  favor  at  the  bands  of  many.  The  philosophical  discussions 
it  contains  ;  its  keen  glances  into  life  and  art  ;  the  minute  and  skill- 
ful delineation  of  men  ;  the  lively  genuine  exhibition  of  the  scenes 
they  move  in  ;  the  occasional  touches  of  eloquence  and  tenderness, 
and  even  of  poetry,  the  very  essence  of  poetry  ;  the  quantity  of 
thought  and  knowledge  embodied  in  a  style  so  rich  in  general  felici- 
ties, of  which,  at  least,  the  new  and  sometimes  exquisite  happy  meta- 
phors have  been  preserved, — cannot  wholly  escape  an  observing 
reader,  even  on  the  most  cursory  perusal.  To  those  who  have  formed 
for  themselves  a  picture  of  the  world,  who  have  drawn  out,  from  the 
thousand  variable  circumstances  of  their  being,  a  philosophy  of  life, 
it  will  be  interesting  and  instructive  to  see  how  man  and  his  concerns 
are  represented  in  the  first  of  European  minds  :  to  those  who  have 
penetrated  to  the  limits  of  their  own  conceptions,  and  wrestled  with 
thoughts  and  feelings  too  high  for  them,  it  will  be  pleasing  and 
profitable  to  see  the  horizon  of  their  certainties  widened,  or  at  least 
separated  with  a  firmer  line  from  the  impalpable  obscure  which  sur- 
rounds it  on  every  side.  Such  persons  I  can  fearlessly  invite  to  study 
"  Meister. "  Across  the  disfigurement  of  a  translation ,  they  will  not  fail 
to  discern  indubitable  traces  of  the  greatest  genius  in  our  times. 
And  the  longer  they  study,  they  are  likely  to  discern  them  the  more 
distinctly.  New  charms  will  successively  arise  to  view  ;  and  of  the 
many  apparent  blemishes,  while  a  few  superficial  ones  may  be  con- 
firmed, the  greater  and  more  important  part  will  vanish,  or  even 
change  from  dark  to  bright  For,  if  I  mistake  not,  it  is  with ' '  Meister  " 
as  with  every  work  of  real  and  abiding  excellence,  the  first  glance  is 
the  least  favorable.  A  picture  of  Raphael,  a  Greek  statue,  a  play  of 
Sophocles  or  Shakespeare,  appears  insignificant  to  the  unpracticed 
eye  ;  and  not  till  after  long  and  patient  and  intense  examination,  do 
we  begin  to  descry  the  earnest  features  of  that  beauty,  which  has  its 
foundation  in  the  deepest  nature  of  man,  and  will  continue  to  be 
pleasing  through  all  ages. 

If  this  appear  excessive  praise,  as  applied  in  any  sense  to  "  Meister," 
the  curious  skeptic  is  desired  to  read  and  weigh  the  whole  perfor- 
mance, with  all  its  references,  relations,  purposes  ;  and  to  pronounce 
his  verdict  after  he  has  clearly  seized  and  appreciated  them  all.  Or 
Jf  a  more  faint  conviction  will  suffice,  let  him  turn  to  the  picture  of 


X  TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE 

Wilhelm's  states  of  mind  in  the  end  of  tlie  first  book,  and  tlie  begin- 
ning of  the  second  ;  the  eulogies  of  commerce  and  poesy,  whicli  fol- 
low ;  the  description  of  Hamlet  ;  the  character  of  histrionic  life  in 
Serlo  and  Aurelia  ;  that  of  sedate  and  lofty  manhood  in  the  Uncle  and 
Lothario.  But  above  all,  let  him  turn  to  the  history  of  Mignon. 
This  mysterious  child,  at  first  neglected  by  the  reader,  gradually 
forced  on  his  attention,  at  length  overpowers  him  with  an  emotion 
more  deep  and  thrilling  than  any  poet  since  the  days  of  Shakespeare 
has  succeeded  in  producing.  The  daughter  of  enthusiasm,  rapture, 
passion  and  despair,  she  is  of  the  earth,  but  not  earthly.  When  she 
glides,  before  us  through  the  light  mazes  of  her  fairy  dance,  or  twangs 
her  cithern  to  the  notes  of  her  homesick  verses,  or  whirls  her  tambou- 
rine and  hurries  round  us  like  an  antique  Maenad,  we  could  almost 
fancy  her  a  spirit ;  so  pure  is  she,  so  full  of  fervor,  so  disengaged 
from  the  clay  of  this  world.  And  when  all  the  fearful  particulars  of 
her  story  are  at  length  laid  together,  and  we  behold  in  connected 
order  the  image  of  her  hapless  existence,  there  is,  in  those  dim  recol- 
lections, those  feelings  so  simple,  so  impassioned  and  unspeakable, 
consuming  the  closely-shrouded,  woe-struck,  yet  ethereal  spirit  of  the 
poor  creature,  something  which  searches  into  the  inmost  recesses  of 
the  soul.  It  is  not  tears  which  her  fate  calls  forth  •,  but  a  feeling  far 
too  deep  for  tears.  The  very  fire  of  heaven  seems  miserably  quenched 
among  the  obstructions  of  this  earth.  Her  little  heart,  so  noble  and 
so  helpless,  perishes  before  the  smallest  of  its  many  beauties  is  un- 
folded :  and  all  its  loves  and  thoughts  and  longings  do  but  add 
another  pang  to  death,  and  sink  to  silence  utter  and  eternal.  It  is  as 
if  the  gloomy  porch  of  Dis,  and  his  pale  kingdoms,  were  realized  and 
set  before  us,  and  we  heard  the  ineffectual  wail  of  infants  reverberat- 
ing from  within  their  prison-walls  forever. 

Contiuuo  auditse  voces,  vagitus  et  ingens, 
Infantumque  animce  flentes  in  limine  primo : 
Quos  dulcis  vitae  exsortes,  et  ab  ubere  raptos, 
Abstulit  atra  dies,  et  funere  mersit  acerbo. 

The  history  of  Mignon  runs  like  a  thread  of  gold  through  the  tissue 
of  the  narrative,  connecting  with  the  heart  much  that  were  else  ad- 
dressed only  to  the  head.  Philosophy  and  eloquence  might  have  done 
the  rest ;  but  this  is  poetry  in  the  highest  meaning  of  the  word.     It 


TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION.  xl 

miist  be  for  the  power  of  producing  such  creations  and  emotions,  that 
Goethe  is  by  many  of  his  countrymen  ranked  at  the  side  of  Homer 
and  Shakespeare,  as  one  of  the  only  three  men  of  genius  that  have 
ever  lived. 

But  my  business  here  is  not  to  judge  of  "  Meister  "  or  its  author,  it  is 
only  to  prepare  others  for  judging  it  ;  and  for  this  purpose  the  most 
that  I  had  room  to  say  is  said.  All  I  ask  in  the  name  of  this  illustri- 
ous foreigner  is,  that  the  court  which  tries  him  be  pure,  and  the  jury 
instructed  in  the  cause  ;  that  the  work  be  not  condemned  for  wanting 
what  it  was  not  meant  to  have,  and  by  persons  nowise  called  to  pass 
sentence  on  it. 

Respecting  my  own  humble  share  in  the  adventure,  it  is  scarcely 
necessary  to  say  anything.  Fidelity  is  all  the  merit  I  have  aimed  at  : 
to  convey  the  author's  sentiments,  as  he  himself  expressed  them  ;  to 
follow  the  original,  in  all  the  variations  of  its  style,  has  been  my  con- 
stant endeavor.  In  many  points,  both  literary  and  moral,  I  may  have 
wished  devoutly  that  he  had  not  written  as  he  has  done  ;  but  to  alter 
anything  was  not  in  my  commission.  The  literary  and  moral  per- 
suasions of  a  man  like  Goethe  are  objects  of  a  rational  curiosity  ; 
and  the  duty  of  a  translator  is  simple  and  distinct.  Accordingly,  ex- 
cept a  few  phrases  and  sentences,  not  in  all  amounting  to  a  page, 
■which  I  have  dropped  as  evidently  unfit  for  the  English  taste,  I  have 
studied  to  present  the  work  exactly  as  it  stands  in  German.  That  ray 
success  has  been  indifferent,  I  already  know  too  well.  In  rendering 
the  ideas  of  Goethe,  often  so  subtle,  so  capriciously  expressive,  the 
meaning  was  not  always  easy  to  seize,  or  to  convey  with  adequate 
effect.  There  were  thin  tints  of  style,  shades  of  ridicule  or  tender- 
ness or  solemnity,  resting  over  large  spaces,  and  so  slight  as  almost 
to  be  evanescent :  some  of  these  I  may  have  failed  to  see  ;  to  many  of 
them  I  could  do  no  justice.  Nor,  even  in  plainer  matters,  can  I  pride 
myself  in  having  always  imitated  his  colloquial  familiarity  without 
falling  into  sentences  bald  and  rugged,  into  idioms  harsh  or  foreign  ; 
or  in  having  copied  the  flowing  oratory  of  other  passages,  without  at 
times  exaggerating  or  defacing  the  swelling  cadences  and  phrases  of 
my  original.  But  what  work,  from  the  translating  of  a  German  novel 
to  the  writing  of  an  epic,  was  ever  as  the  workman  wished  and  meant 
it?    This  version  of  "Meister,"  with  whatever  faults  it  may  have,  I 


xii  TRAN8LA  TOR 'S  PREFA CE. 

honestly  present  to  my  countrymen  :  if,  wliile  it  makes  any  portion 
of  them  more  familar  with  the  richest,  most  gifted  of  living  minds, 
it  increase  their  knowledge,  or  even  afford  them  a  transient  amuse- 
ment, they  will  excuse  its  errors,  and  I  shall  be  far  more  than  paid 
for  all  my  labor. 
Edinbubgh,  1824. 


WILHELM  MEISTER^S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK  I, 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  play  was  late  in  breaking  up  :  old  Barbara  went  more  than 
once  to  the  window,  and  listened  for  the  sound  of  carriages.  She 
was  waiting  for  Mariana,  her  pretty  mistress,  who  had  that  night,  in 
the  afterpiece,  been  acting  the  part  of  a  young  officer,  to  the  no  small 
delight  of  the  public.  Barbara's  impatience  was  greater  than  it  used 
to  be,  when  she  had  nothing  but  a  frugal  supper  to  present  :  on  this 
occasion,  Mariana  was  to  be  surprised  with  a  packet,  which  Norberg, 
a  young  and  wealthy  merchant,  had  sent  by  the  post,  to  show  that,  in 
absence,  he  still  thought  of  his  love. 

As  an  old  servant,  as  confidante,  counselor,  manager  and  house- 
keeper, Barbara  assumed  the  privilege  of  opening  seals  ;  and  this 
evening  she  the  less  had  been  able  to  restrain  her  curiosity,  as  the 
favor  of  the  open-handed  gallant  was  more  a  matter  of  anxiety  with 
herself  than  with  her  mistress.  On  breaking  up  the  packet,  she  had 
found,  with  unfeigned  satisfaction,  that  it  held  a  piece  of  fine  muslin 
and  some  ribbons  of  the  newest  fashion  for  Mariana  ;  with  a  quan- 
tity of  calico,  two  or  three  neckerchiefs,  and  a  moderate  rouleau  of 
money,  for  herself.  Her  esteem  for  the  absent  Norberg  was  of  course 
unbounded  ;  she  meditated  only  how  she  might  best  present  him  to 
the  mind  of  Mariana,  best  bring  to  her  recollection  what  she  owed 
him,  and  what  he  had  a  right  to  expect  from  her  fidelity  and 
thankfulness. 

The  muslin,  with  the  ribbons  half  unrolled,  to  set  it  off  by  their 
colors,  lay  like  a  Christmas  present  on  the  small  table  ;  the  position 
of  the  lights  increased  the  glitter  of  the  gift  ;  all  was  in  order, 
when  the  old  woman  heard  Mariana's  step  on  the  stairs,  and  hastened 
to  meet  her.  But  what  was  her  disappointment,  when  the  little 
female  officer,  without  deigning  to  regard  her  cares.ses,  rushed  past 
her  with  unusual   speed  and  agitation  ;  threw  her  hat  and  sword 

(13) 


14  MEISTER'S  APPREN1ICE8HIP. 

upon  the  table,  and  walked  hastily  up  and  down,  bestowing  not  & 
look  on  the  lights,  or  any  portion  of  the  apparatus  ! 

"  What  ails  thee,  my  darling  ?  "  exclaimed  the  astonished  Barbara  ; 
"  for  Heaven's  sake,  what  is  the  matter?  Look  here,  my  pretty 
child  ?  See  what  a  present  !  And  who  could  have  sent  it  but  thy 
kindest  of  friends?  Norberg  has  given  thee  the  muslin  to  make  a 
nightgown  of  ;  he  will  soon  be  here  himself  ;  he  seems  to  be  fonder 
and  more  generous  than  ever." 

Barbara  went  to  the  table,  that  she  might  exhibit  the  memorials 
with  which  Norberg  had  likewise  honored  Iter,  when  Mariana,  turn- 
ing away  from  the  presents,  exclaimed  with  vehemence,  "Off!  off  I 
Not  a  word  of  all  this  to-night  !  I  have  yielded  to  thee  ;  thou  hast 
willed  it  ;  be  it  so  !  When  Norberg  comes,  I  am  his,  am  thine,  am 
any  one's  ;  make  of  me  what  thou  pleasest ;  but  till  then  I  will  be  my 
own  ;  and,  if  thou  hadst  a  thousand  tongues,  thou  shouldst  never  talk 
me  from  my  purpose.  All,  all  that  is  my  own  will  I  give  up  to  him 
who  loves  me  ;  whom  I  love.  No  sour  faces  !  I  will  abandon  myself 
to  this  affection,  as  if  it  were  to  last  forever." 

The  old  damsel  had  abundance  of  objections  and  serious  consider- 
ations to  allege  ;  in  the  progress  of  the  dialogue,  she  was  growing 
bitter  and  keen,  when  Mariana  sprang  at  her,  and  seized  her  by  the 
breast.  The  old  damsel  laughed  aloud.  "I  must  have  a  care,"  she 
cried,  "  that  you  don't  get  into  pantaloons  again,  if  I  mean  to  be  sure 
of  my  life !  Come,  doff  you  !  The  girl  will  beg  my  pardon  for  the 
foolish  things  the  boy  is  doing  to  me.  Off  with  the  frock  !  Off  with 
them  all  !  The  dress  beseems  you  not ;  it  is  dangerous  for  you,  I 
observe  ;   the  epaulets  make  you  too  bold." 

Thus  speaking,  she  had  laid  hands  upon  her  mistress  :  Mariana 
pushed  her  off,  exclaiming,  "  Not  so  fast  !     I  expect  a  visit  to-night." 

"  Visit !  "  rejoined  Barbara  ;  "  you  surely  do  not  look  for  Meister, 
the  young,  soft-hearted,  callow  merchant's  son  ?  " 

"Just  for  him,"  replied  Mariana. 

"Generosity  appears  to  be  growing  your  ruling  passion,"  said  the 
old  woman,  with  a  grin;  "you  connect  yourself  with  minors  and 
moneyless  people,  as  if  they  were  the  chosen  of  the  earth.  Doubtless 
it  is  charming  to  be  worshiped  as  a  benefactress." 

' '  Jeer  as  thou  pleasest.  I  love  him  !  I  love  him  !  With  what  rap- 
ture do  I  now,  for  the  first  time,  speak  the  word  !  TJiis  is  the  passion 
which  I  have  mimicked  so  often,  when  I  knew  not  what  it  meant. 
Yes  !  I  will  throw  myself  about  his  neck  ;  I  will  clasp  him  as  if  I 
could  hold  him  forever.  I  will  show  him  all  my  love  ;  will  enjoy  aJl 
his  in  its  whole  extent. " 

"  Moderate  yourself,"  said  the  old  dame  coolly  ;  "  moderate  your- 
self !  A  single  word  will  interrupt  your  rapture  :  Norberg  is  com- 
ing !  Coming  in  a  fortnight !  Here  is  the  letter  that  arrived  with 
the  packet." 

"  And,  though  the  morrow  were  to  rob  me  of  my  friend,  I  would 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  II.  15 

conceal  it  from  myself  and  liira.     A  fortniglit !     An  age  !    Within  a 
fortnight,  what  may  not  happen,  what  may  not  alter  ?  " 

Here  Wilhelm  entered.  We  need  not  say  how  fast  she  flew  to 
meet  him  ;  with  what  rapture  he  clasped  the  red  uniform,  and  pressed 
the  beautiful  wearer  of  it  to  his  bosom.  It  is  not  for  us  to  describe 
the  blessedness  of  two  lovers.  Old  Barbara  went  grumbling  away  ; 
we  shall  retire  with  her,  and  leave  the  happy  two  alone. 


CHAPTER  II. 


When  Wilhelm  saluted  his  mother,  next  morning,  she  informed 
him  that  his  father  was  very  greatly  discontented  with  him,  and 
meant  to  forbid  him  these  daily  visits  to  the  playhouse.  "  Though  I 
myself  often  go  with  pleasure  to  the  theater,"  she  continued,  "  I 
could  almost  detest  it  entirely,  when  I  think  that  our  fireside  peace 
is  broken  by  your  excessive  passion  for  that  amusement.  Your 
father  is  ever  repeating  :  What  is  the  use  of  it  ?  How  can  any  one 
waste  his  time  so  ?  " 

"He  has  already  told  me  this,"  said  Wilhelm;  "and  perhaps  I 
answered  him  too  hastily  ;  but,  for  Heaven's  sake,  mother,  is  nothing 
then  of  use  but  what  immediately  puts  money  in  our  purse ;  but 
what  procures  us  some  property  that  we  can  lay  our  hands  on  ?  Had 
we  not,  for  instance,  room  enough  in  the  old  house  ;  and  was  it  in- 
dispensable to  build  a  new  one  ?  Does  not  my  father  every  year  ex- 
pend a  large  part  of  his  profit  in  ornamenting  his  chambers  ?  Are  not 
these  silk  carpets,  this  English  furniture,  likewise  of  no  use  ?  Might, 
we  not  content  ourselves  with  worse?  For  my  own  part,  I  confess,! 
these  striped  walls,  these  hundred  times  repeated  flowers,  and  knots,! 
and  baskets,  and  figures,  produce  a  really  disagreeable  effect  uponi 
me.  At  best,  they  but  remind  me  of  the  front  curtain  of  our  theater. 
But  what  a  different  thing  it  is  to  sit  and  look  at  that  !  There,  if 
you  must  wait  for  a  while,  you  are  always  sure  that  it  will  rise  at 
last,  and  disclose  to  you  a  thousand  curious  objects,  to  entertain,  to 
instruct  and  to  exalt  you." 

"  But  you  go  to  excess  with  it,"  said  the  mother  ;  "your  father 
wishes  to  be  entertained  in  the  evenings  as  well  as  you  ;  besides,  he 
thinks  it  dissipates  your  attention  ;  and  when  he  grows  ill-humored 
on  the  subject,  it  is  I  that  must  bear  the  blame.  How  often  have  I 
been  upbraided  with  that  miserable  puppet-show,  which  I  was  un- 
lucky enough  to  provide  for  you  at  Christmas,  twelve  years  ago  !  It 
was  the  first  thing  that  put  these  plays  into  your  head." 

"  O,  do  not  blame  the  poor  puppets  ;  do  not  repent  of  your  love  and 
motherly  care  !  It  was  the  only  happy  hour  I  had  enjoyed  in  the  new 
empty  house.     I  never  can  forget  that  hour  ;  I  see  it  still  before  me  ; 


16  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

I  recollect  how  surprised  I  was,  when,  after  we  had  got  our  customary 
presents,  you  made  us  seat  ourselves  before  the  door  that  leads  to  the 
other  room.  The  door  opened  ;  but  not  as  formerly,  to  let  us  pass 
and  repass  ;  the  entrance  was  occupied  by  an  unexpected  show. 
Within  it  rose  a  porch,  concealed  by  a  mysterious  curtain.  All  of  us 
were  standing  at  a  distance  ;  our  eagerness  to  see  what  glittering  or 
jingling  article  lay  hid  behind  the  half-transparent  veil  was  mounting 
higher  and  liigher,  when  you  bade  us  each  sit  down  upon  his  stool 
and  wait  with  patience. 

"  At  length  all  of  us  were  seated  and  silent  ;  a  whistle  gave  the 
signal  ;  the  curtain  rolled  aloft,  and  showed  us  the  interior  of  the 
temple,  painted  in  deep  red  colors.  The  high-priest  Samuel  ap- 
peared with  Jonathan,  and  their  strange  alternating  voices  seemed  to 
me  the  most  striking  thing  on  earth.  Shortly  after  entered  Saul,  over- 
whelmed with  confusion  at  the  impertinence  of  that  heavy-limbed 
warrior,  who  had  defied  him  and  his  people.  But  how  glad  was  I 
when  the  little  dapper  son  of  Jesse,  with  his  crook  and  shepherd's 
pouch  and  sling,  came  hopping  forth  and  said  :  '  Dread  king  and 
sovereign  lord  !  let  no  one's  heart  sink  down  because  of  this  ;  if  your 
majesty  will  grant  me  leave,  I  will  go  out  to  battle  with  tliis  bluster- 
ing giant.'  Here  ended  the  first  act ;  lea.ving  the  spectators  more 
curious  than  ever  to  see  what  farther  would  happen,  each  praying 
that  the  music  might  soon  be  done.  At  last  the  curtain  rose  again. 
David  devoted  the  flesh  of  the  monster  to  the  fowls  of  the  air  and  the 
beasts  of  the  field  ;  the  Philistine  scorned  and  bullied  him,  stamped 
mightily  with  both  his  feet,  and  at  length  fell  like  a  mass  of  clay, 
affording  a  splendid  termination  to  the  piece.  And  then  the  virgins 
sang  :  '  Saul  hath  slain  his  thousands,  but  David  his  ten  thousands  ! ' 
The  giant's  head  was  borne  before  his  little  victor,  who  received  the 
king's  beautiful  daughter  to  wife.  Yet  withal,  I  remember,  I  was 
vexed  at  the  dwarfish  stature  of  this  lucky  prince  ;  for  the  great 
Goliath  and  the  small  David  had  both  been  formed,  according  to  the 
common  notion,  with  a  due  regard  to  their  figures  and  proportions.  I 
pray  you,  mother,  tell  me  what  has  now  become  of  those  puppets? 
I  promised  to  show  them  to  a  friend,  whom  I  was  lately  entertaining 
with  a  history  of  all  this  child's  work." 

"  I  can  easily  conceive,"  said  the  mother,  "  how  these  things  should 
stick  so  firmly  in  your  mind  :  I  well  remember  what  an  interest  you 
took  in  them  ;  how  you  stole  the  little  book  from  me,  and  learned  the 
whole  piece  Ijy  heart.  I  first  noticed  it  one  evening  wlien  you  had 
made  a  Goliath  and  a  David  of  wax  ;  you  set  them  both  to  declaim 
against  each  other,  and  at  length  gave  a  deadly  stab  to  the  giant,  fix- 
ing his  shapeless  head,  stuck  upon  a  large  pin  with  a  wax  handle,  in 
little  David's  hand.  I  then  felt  such  a  motherly  contentment  at  your 
fine  recitation  and  good  memory,  that  I  resolved  to  give  you  up  the 
whole  wooden  troop  to  your  own  disposal.  I  did  not  then  foresee  that 
it  would  cause  me  so  many  heavy  hours." 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  III.  17 

"  Do  not  repent  of  it,"  said  Williclni  ;  "  tliis  little  sport  lias  often 
made  us  happy."  So  saying,  he  got  the  keys  ;  made  haste  to  find  the 
puppets  ;  and'  for  a  moment,  was  transported  back  into  those  times 
when  thev  almost  seemed  to  him  alive,  when  he  felt  as  if  he  himself 
could  give  them  life  by  the  cunning  of  his  voice  and  the  movements 
of  his  hands.  He  took  them  to  his  room,  and  locked  them  up  with 
care. 


CHAPTER  in. 


If  the  first  love  is  indeed,  as  I  hear  it  everywhere  maintained  to  be, 
the  most  delicious  feeling  which  the  heart  of  man,  before  it  or  after, 
can  experience — then  our  hero  must  be  reckoned  doubly  happy,  as 
permitted  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  this  chosen  period  in  all  its  full- 
ness. Few  men  are  so  peculiarly  favored  ;  by  far  the  greater  part 
are  led  by  the  feelings  of  their  youth  into  nothing  but  a  school  of 
hardship,  where,  after  a  stinted  and  checkered  season  of  enjoyment, 
they  are  at  length  constrained  to  renounce  their  dearest  wishes,  and  to 
jtearn  forever  to  dispense  with  what  once  hovered  before  them  as  the 
highest  happiness  of  existence. 

Wilhelm's  passion  for  that  charming  girl  now  soared  aloft  on  the 
wings  of  imagination  :  after  a  short  acquaintance,  he  had  gained  her 
affections  ;  he  found  himself  in  possession  of  a  being  whom  w^ith  all 
his  heart  he  not  only  loved,  but  honored  :  for  she  had  first  appeared 
before  him  in  the  flattering  light  of  theatric  pomp,  and  his  passion 
for  the  stage  combined  itself  with  his  earliest  love  for  woman.  His 
youth  allowed  him  to  enjoy  rich  pleasures,  which  the  activity  of  his 
fancy  exalted  and  maintained.  The  situation  of  his  mistress,  too, 
gave  a  turn  to  her  conduct,  which  greatly  enlivened  his  emotions. 
The  fear  lest  her  lover  might,  before  tlie  time,  detect  the  real  state  in 
which  she  stood,  diffused  over  all  her  conduct  an  interesting  tinge  of 
anxiety  and  bashf  illness  ;  her  attachment  to  the  youth  was  deep  ;  her 
inquietude  itself  appeared  but  to  augment  her  tenderness  ;  she  was 
the  loveliest  of  creatures  while  beside  him. 

When  the  first  tumult  of  joy  had  passed,  and  our  friend  began  to 
look  back  upon  his  life  and  its  concerns,  everj^thing  appeared  new  to 
him  ;  his  duties  seemed  holier^  his  inclinations  keener,  his  knowledge 
clearer,  his  talents  stronger,  his  purposes  more  decided.  Accord- 
ingly, he  soon  fell  upon  a  plan  to  avoid  the  reproaches  of  his  father, 
to  still  the  cares  of  his  mother,  and  at  the  same  time  to  enjoy  Mari- 
ana's love  without  disturbance.  Through  the  day  he  punctually 
transacted  his  business,  commonly  forebore  attending  the  theater, 
strove  to  be  entertaining  at  table  in  the  evening  ;  and  when  all  were 
asleep,  he  glided  softly  out  into  the  garden,  and  hastened,  wrapt  up 


18  MEISTEB' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

in  liis  mantle,  with  all  the  feelings  of  Leander  in  his  bosom,  to  meet 
his  mistress  without  delay. 

"  What  is  this  you  bring  ?"  inquired  Mariana,  as  he  entered  one 
evening,  witli  a  bundle,  which  Barbara,  in  hopes  it  might  turn  out 
to  be  some  valuable  present,  fixed  her  eyes  upon  with  great  attention. 
"  You  will  never  guess,"  said  Willi  elm. 

Great  was  the  surprise  of  Mariana,  great  the  scorn  of  Barbara,  when 
the  napkin  being  loosened  gave  to  view  a  perplexed  multitude  of  span- 
long  puppets.  Mariana  laughed  aloud,  as  Wilhelm  set  himself  to 
disentangle  the  confusion  of  the  wires,  and  show  her  each  figure  by 
itself.     Barbara  glided  sulkily  out  of  the  room. 

A  very  little  thing  will  entertain  two  lovers  ;  and  accordingly  our 
friends,  this  evening,  were  as  happy  as  they  wished  to  be.  The  little 
troop  was  mustered  ;  each  figure  was  minutely  examined,  and  laughed 
at,  in  its  turn.  King  Saul,  with  his  golden  crown  and  his  black  vel- 
vet robe,  Mariana  did  not  like  ;  he  looked,  she  said,  too  stiff  and 
pedantic.  She  was  far  better  pleased  with  Jonathan,  his  sleek  chin, 
his  turban,  his  cloak  of  red  and  yellow.  She  soon  got  the  art  of  turn- 
ing him  deftly  on  his  wire  ;  she  made  him  bow,  and  repeat  declarations 
of  love.  On  the  other  hand,  she  refused  to  give  the  least  attention 
to  the  prophet  Samuel,  though  Wilhelm  commended  the  pontifical 
breastplate,  and  told  her  that  the  taffeta  of  the  cassock  had  been 
taken  from  a  gown  of  his  own  grandmother's.  David  she  thought 
too  small,  Goliath  was  too  large  ;  she  held  by  Jonathan.  She  grew 
to  manage  him  so  featly,  and  at  last  to  extend  her  caresses  from  the 
puppet  to  its  owner,  that,  on  this  occasion,  as  on  others,  a  silly  sport 
became  the  introduction  to  happy  hours. 

Their  soft,  sweet  dreams  were  broken  in  upon  by  a  noise  which 
arose  on  the  street.  Mariana  called  for  the  old  dame,  who  as  usual, 
was  occupied  in  furbishing  the  changeful  materials  of  the  playhouse 
wardrobe  for  the  service  of  the  piece  next  to  be  acted.  Barbara  said, 
the  disturbance  arose  from  a  set  of  jolly  companions,  who  were  just 
then  sallying  out  of  the  Italian  tavern,  hard  by,  where  they  had  been 
busy  discussing  fresh  oysters,  a  cargo  of  which  had  just  arrived,  and 
by  no  means  sparing  their  champagne. 

"Pity,"  Mariana  said,  "that  we  did  not  think  of  it  in  time  ;  we 
might  have  had  some  entertainment  to  ourselves." 

"  It  is  not  yet  too  late,"  said  Wilhelm,  giving  Barbara  a  louis-d'or  ; 
"get  us  what  we  want ;  then  come  and  take  a  share  with  us." 

The  old  dame  made  speedy  work  ;  ere  long  a  trimly-covered  table, 
with  a  neat  collation,  stood  before  the  lovers.  They  made  Barbara 
sit  with  them  ;  they  ate  and  drank,  and  enjoyed  themselves. 

On  such  occasions,  there  is  never  want  of  enougli  to  say.  Mariana 
soon  took  up  little  Jonathan  again,  and  the  old  dame  turned  the  con- 
versation upon  Wilhelm's  favorite  topic.  "You  were  once  telling 
us,"  she  said,  "  about  the  first  exhibition  of  a  puppet-show  on  Christ- 
mas-eve ;  I  remember  you  were  interrupted,  just  as  the  ballet  was 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  III.  19 

going  to  begin.  We  have  now  tlie  pleasure  of  a  personal  acquaint- 
ance with  the  honorable  company  by  whom  those  wonderful  efEecta 
were  brought  about." 

"O  yes  !  "  cried  Mariana,  "  do  tell  us  how  it  all  went  on,  and  how 
you  felt  tlien." 

"  It  is  a  fine  emotion,  Mariana,"  said  the  youth,  "  when  we  bethink 
ourselves  of  old  times,  and  old  harmless  errors  ;  especially  if  this  is 
at  a  period  when  we  have  happily  gained  some  elevation,  from  which 
we  can  look  around  us,  and  survey  the  path  we  have  left  behind.  It 
is  so  pleasant  to  think,  with  composure  and  satisfaction,  of  many  ob- 
stacles, which  often  with  painful  feelings  we  may  have  regarded  as 
invincible  :  pleasant  to  compare  what  we  now  are,  with  what  we  then 
were  struggling  to  become.  But  I  am  happy  above  others  in  this 
matter,  that  I  speak  to  you  about  the  past,  at  a  moment  when  I  can 
also  look  forth  into  the  blooming  country,  which  we  are  yet  to  wan- 
der through  together,  hand  in  hand." 

"But  how  was  it  with  the  ballet?  "  said  Barbara.  "  I  fear  it  did 
not  quite  go  off  as  it  should  have  done." 

"I  assure  you,"  said  Wilhelm,  "it  went  off  quite  well.  And  cer- 
tainly the  strange  caperiugs  of  these  Moors  and  Mooresses,  these  shep- 
herds and  shepherdesses,  these  dwarfs  and  dwarfesses,  will  never 
altogether  leave  my  recollection,  while  I  live.  When  the  curtain 
dropped,  and  the  door  clo.sed,  our  little  party  skipped  away,  frolicking 
as  if  they  had  been  tipsy,  to  their  beds  ;  for  myself,  however,  I  re- 
member that  I  could  not  go  to  .sleep  :  still  wanting  to  have  something 
told  me  on  the  subject,  I  continued  putting  questions  to  every  one, 
and  would  hardly  let  the  maid  away  who  had  brought  me  up  to  bed. 

"Next  morning,  alas  !  the  magic  apparatus  had  altogether  van- 
ished ;  the  mysterious  veil  was  carried  off,  the  door  permitted  us 
again  to  go  and  come  through  it  witliout  obstruction  ;  the  manifold 
adventures  of  the  evening  had  passed  away,  and  left  no  trace  behind. 
My  brothers  and  sisters  were  running  up  and  down  with  their  play- 
things ;  I  alone  kept  gliding  to  and  fro  ;  it  seemed  to  me  impossible 
that  two  bare  door-posts  could  be  all  that  now  remained,  where  the 
night  before  so  much  enchantment  had  displayed  itself.  Alas  !  the 
man  that  seeks  a  lost  love  can  hardly  be  unhappier  than  I  then 
thought  myself." 

A  rapturous  look,  which  he  cast  on  Mariana,  convinced  her  that  he 
was  not  much  afraid  of  ever  having  a  misfortune  such  as  this  to 
strive  with. 


^d  MEISTMR*S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"My  sole  wish  now,"  continued  Willielm,  "  was  to  witness  a  sec- 
ond exhibition  of  the  piece.  For  this  purpose  I  had  recourse,  by  con- 
stant entreaties,  to  my  mother  ;  and  she  attempted  in  a  favorable 
hour  to  persuade  my  father.  Her  labor,  however,  was  in  vain.  My 
father's  principle  was,  that  none  but  enjoyments  of  rare  occurrence 
were  adequately  prized  ;  that  neither  young-  nor  old  could  set  a  proper 
value  on  pleasures  which  they  tasted  every  day. 

"We  might  have  waited  long,  perhaps  till  Christmas  returned, 
had  not  the  contriver  and  secret  director  of  the  spectacle  himself  felt 
a  pleasure  in  repeating  the  display  of  it ;  partly  incited,  I  suppose, 
by  the  wish  to  produce  a  brand-new  harlequin  expressly  prepared 
for  the  afterpiece. 

"  A  young  officer  of  the  artillery,  a  person  of  great  gifts  in  all  sorts 
of  mechanical  contrivance,  had  served  my  father  in  many  essential 
particulars  during  the  building  of  the  house  ;  for  which,  having  been 
handsomely  rewarded,  he  felt  desirous  of  expressing  his  thankfulness 
to  the  family  of  his  patron,  and  so  made  us  young  ones  a  present  of 
this  complete  theater,  which,  in  hours  of  leisure,  he  had  already 
carved  and  painted  and  strung  together.  It  was  this  young  man, 
who,  with  the  help  of  a  servant,  had  himself  managed  the  puppets, 
disguising  his  voice  to  pronounce  their  various  speeches.  He  had  no 
great  difficulty  in  persuading  my  father,  who  granted,  out  of  com- 
plaisance to  a  friend,  what  he  had  denied  from  conviction  to  his  chil- 
dren. In  short,  our  theater  was  again  set  up,  some  little  ones  of  the 
neighborhood  were  invited,  and  the  piece  was  again  represented. 

"  If  I  had  formerly  experienced  the  delights  of  surprise  and  aston- 
ishment, I  enjoyed  on  this  second  occasion  the  pleasure  of  examining 
and  scrutinizing.  How  all  this  happened  was  my  present  concern. 
That  the  puppets  themselves  did  not  speak,  I  had  already  decided  ; 
that  of  themselves  they  did  not  move,  I  also  conjectured  :  but  then 
how  came  it  all  to  be  so  pretty,  and  to  look  just  as  if  they  both  spoke 
and  moved  of  themselves  ;  and  where  were  the  lights,  and  the  people 
that  managed  the  deception  V  These  enigmas  perplexed  me  the 
more,  as  I  wished  at  once  to  be  among  the  enchanters  and  the  en- 
chanted, at  once  to  have  a  secret  hand  in  theplay,  and  to  enjoy,  as  a 
looker-on,  the  pleasure  of  illusion. 

"  The  piece  being  finished,  preparations  were  making  for  the  farce  ; 
the  spectators  had  risen,  and  were  all  busy  talking  together.  I 
squeezed  myself  closer  to  the  door,  and  heard,  by  the  rattling  within, 
that  the  people  were  packing  up  some  articles.  I  lifted  the  lowest 
screen,  and  poked  in  my  head  between  the  posts.  As  our  mother 
noticed  it,  she  drew  me  back  ;  but  1  had  seen  well  enough,  that  here 


BOOK  L  CHAPTER  V.  Si 

friends  and  foes,  Saul  and  Goliatli,  and  whatever  else  their  names 
might  be,  were  lying  quietly  down  together  in  a  drawer;  and  thus 
my  half-contented  curiosity  received  a  fresh  excitement.  To  my 
great  surprise,  moreover,  I  had  noticed  the  lieutenant  very  diligently 
occupied  in  the  interior  of  the  shrine.  Henceforth,  Jack-pudding, 
however  he  might  clatter  with  his  heels,  could  not  any  longer  enter- 
tain me.  I  sank  into  deep  meditation  ;  my  discovery  at  once  made 
me  more  satisfied,  and  less  so  than  before.  After  a  little,  it  first 
struck  me  that  1  yet  comprehended  nothing  ;  and  here  I  was  right  ; 
for  the  connection  of  tlie  parts  with  each  other  was  entirely  unknown 
to  me,  and  everything  depends  on  that. 


CHAPTER  V. 


"  In  well  adjusted  and  regulated  houses,"  continued  Wilhelm,  "  chil- 
dren have  a  feeling  not  unlike  what  I  conceive  rats  and  mice  to  have  ; 
they  keep  a  sliarp  eye  on  all  crevices  and  holes,  where  they  may  conio 
at  any  forbidden  dainty  ;  they  enjoy  it  also  with  a  fearful,  stolen 
satisfaction,  which  forms  no  small  part  of  the  happiness  of  childhood. 

"More  than  any  other  of  the  young  ones,  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
looking  out  attentively  to  see  if  I  could  notice  any  cupboard  left  open, 
or  key  standing  in  its  lock.  The  more  reverence  I  bore  in  my  heart 
for  those  closed  doors,  on  the  outside  of  which  I  had  to  pass'  by  for 
weeks  and  months,  catching  only  a  furtive  glance  when  our  motlier 
now  and  then  opened  the  consecrated  place  to  take  something  from 
it, — the  quicker  was  I  to  make  use  of  any  opportunities  which  the 
forgetfulness  of  our  housekeepers  at  times  afforded  me. 

"  Among  all  the  doors,  that  of  tlie  store-room  was,  of  course,  the 
one  I  watched  most  narrowly.  Few  of  the  joyful  anticipations  in  life 
can  equal  the  feeling  which  I  used  to  liave,  when  my  mother  hap- 
pened to  call  me,  that  I  might  help  her  to  carry  out  anything,  after 
which  I  might  pick  up  a  few  dried  plums,  either  with  her  kind  per- 
mission, or  by  help  of  my  own  dexterity.  The  accumulated  treasuresof 
this  chamber  took  hold  of  my  imagination  by  their  magnitude;  the  very 
fragrance  exhaled  by  so  multifarious  a  collection  of  sweet-smelling 
spices  produced  such  a  craving  effect  on  me,  that  I  never  failed,  when 
passing  near,  to  linger  for  a  little,  and  regale  myself  at  least  on  the 
unbolted  atmosphere.  At  length,  one  Sunday  morning,  my  mother, 
being  hurried  by  the  ringing  of  the  church-bells,  forgot  to  take  this 
precious  key  with  her  on  shutting  tlie  door,  and  went  away,  leaving 
all  the  house  in  a  deep  Sabbath  stillness.  No  sooner  had  I  marked 
this  oversight,  than  gliding  softly  once  or  twice  to  and  from  the  place, 
I  at  last  approached  very  gingerly,  opened  the  door,  and  felt  myself, 
after  a  single  step  in  immediate  contact  with  these  manifold  and  long- 


23  MElBfER'S  APPHmTlGESHlP. 

wislied-for  means  of  happiness.  I  glanced  over  glasses,  chests  and 
bags  and  drawers  and  boxes,  with  a  quick  and  doubtful  eye,  consider- 
ing what  I  ought  to  choose  and  take  ;  turned  finally  to  my  dear  with- 
ered plums,  provided  myself  also  with  a  few  dried  apples,  and  com- 
pleted the  forage  with  an  orange-chip.  I%vas  quietly  retreating  with 
my  plunder,  when  some  little  chests,  lying  piled  over  one  another, 
caught  my  attention  ;  the  more  so,  as  I  noticed  a  wire,  with  hooks  at 
the  end  of  it,  sticking  through  the  joint  of  the  lid  in  one  of  them. 
Full  of  eager  hopes,  I  opened  this  singular  package  ;  and  judge  of  my 
emotions,  when  I  found  my  glad  world  of  heroes  all  sleeping  safe 
within  !  I  meant  to  pick  out  the  topmost,  and,  having  examined 
them,  to  pull  up  those  below  ;  but  in  this  attempt,  the  wires  got  very 
soon  entangled,  and  I  fell  into  a  fright  and  flutter,  more  particularly  as 
the  cook  just  then  began  making  some  stir  in  the  kitchen,  which  lay 
close  by  ;  so  that  I  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  squeeze  the  whole  to- 
gether the  best  way  I  could,  and  to  shut  the  chest,  liaving  stolen  from 
it  nothing  but  a  little  written  book,  which  happened  to  be  lying  above, 
and  contained  the  whole  drama  of  Goliath  and  David.  With  this 
booty  I  made  good  my  retreat  into  the  garret. 

"Henceforth  all  my  stolen  hours  of  solitude  were  devoted  to  pe- 
rusing the  play,  to  learning  it  by  heart,  and  picturing  in  thought  how 
glorious  it  would  be,  could  I  but  get  the  figures,  to  make  them  move 
along  with  it.  In  idea,  I  myself  became  David  and  Goliath  by  turns. 
In  every  corner  of  the  court-yard,  of  the  stables,  of  the  garden,  under 
all  kinds  of  circumstances,  I  labored  to  stamp  the  whole  piece  upon 
my  mind  ;  laid  hold  of  all  the  characters,  and  learned  their  speeches 
by  heart,  most  commonly,  however,  taking  up  the  parts  of  the  chief 
personages,  and  allowing  all  the  rest  to  move  along  with  them,  but 
as  satellites,  across  my  memory.  Thus  day  and  night  the  heroic 
words  of  David,  wherewith  he  challenged  the  braggart  giant,  Goliath 
of  Gath,  kept  their  place  in  my  thoughts.  I  often  muttered  them  to 
myself,  while  no  one  gave  heed  to  me,  except  my  father,  who,  fre- 
quently observing  some  such  detached  exclamation,  would  in  secret 
praise  the  excellent  memory  of  his  boy,  that  had  retained  so  much 
from  only  two  recitations. 

"By  this  means,  growing  always  bolder,  I  one  evening  repeated 
almost  the  entire  piece  before  my  mother,  whilst  I  was  busied  in 
fashioning  some  bits  of  wax  into  players.  She  observed  it,  ques- 
tioned me  hard,  and  I  confessed. 

"By  good  fortune,  this  detection  happened  at  a  time  when  the 
lieutenant  had  himself  been  expressing  a  wish  to  initiate  me  in  the 
mysteries  of  the  art.  My  mother  forthwith  gave  him  notice  of  these 
unexpected  talents  ;  and  he  now  contrived  to  make  my  parents  oflfer 
him  a  couple  of  chambers  in  the  top  story,  which  commonly  stood 
empty,  that  he  might  accommodate  the  spectators  in  the  one,  while 
the  other  held  his  actors,  the  proscenium  again  filling  up  the  open- 
ing of  the  door.     My  father  had  allowed  his  friend  to  arrange  all 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  VI.  23 

this  ;  himself,  in  the  meantime,  seeming  only  to  look  at  the  trans- 
action, as  it  were,  through  his  fingers ;  for  his  maxim  was,  that 
children  should  not  be  allowed  .to  see  the  kindness  which  is  felt 
towards  them,  lest  their  pretensions  come  to  extend  too  far.  He  was 
of  opinion,  that,  in  the  enjoyments  of  the  young,  one  should  assume 
a  serious  air  ;  often  interrupting  the  course  of  their  festivities,  to 
prevent  their  satisfaction  from  degenerating  into  excess  and  pre- 
sumption. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


"The  lieutenant  now  set  up  his  theater,  and  managed  all  the  rest. 
During  the  week,  I  readily  observed  that  he  often  came  into  the 
house  at  unusual  hours,  and  I  soon  guessed  the  cause.  My  eager- 
ness increased  immensely  ;  for  I  well  understood,  that  till  Sunday 
evening  I  could  have  no  share  in  what  was  going  on.  At  last  the 
wished-for  day  arrived.  At  five  in  the  evening,  my  conductor  came 
and  took  me  up  with  him.  Quivering  with  joy,  I  entered,  and 
descried,  on  both  sides  of  the  frame-work,  the  puppets  all  hanging 
in  order  as  they  were  to  advance  to  view.  I  considered  them  nar- 
rowly, and  mounted  on  the  steps,  which  raised  them  above  the 
scene,  and  allowed  me  to  hover  aloft  over  all  that  little  world.  Not 
without  reverence  did  I  look  down  between  the  pieces  of  board,  and 
recollect  what  a  glorious  effect  the  whole  would  produce,  and  feel 
into  what  mighty  secrets  I  was  now  admitted.  We  made  a  trial, 
which  succeeded  well. 

"  Next  day,  a  party  of  children  were  invited :  we  performed 
rarely  :  except  that  once,  in  the  fire  of  action,  I  let  poor  Jonathan 
fall,  and  was  obliged  to  reach  down  with  my  hand  and  pick  him  up 
again  ;  an  accident  which  sadly  marred  the  illusion,  produced  a  peal 
of  laughter,  and  vexed  me  unspeakably.  My  father,  however, 
seemed  to  relish  this  misfortune  not  a  little.  Prudently  shrouding  up 
the  contentment  he  felt  at  the  expertness  of  his  little  boy,  after  the 
piece  was  finished,  he  dwelt  on  the  mistakes  we  had  committed, 
saying  it  would  all  have  been  very  pretty,  had  not  this  or  that  gone 
wrong  with  us. 

"I  was  vexed  to  the  heart  at  these  things,  and  sad  for  all  the 
evening.  By  next  morning,  however,  I  had  quite  slept  off  my  sor- 
row ;  and  was  blessed  in  the  persuasion  that,  but  for  this  one  fault, 
I  had  played  delightfully.  The  spectators  also  flattered  me  with 
their  unanimous  approval  ;  they  all  maintained,  that  though  the 
lieutenant,  in  regard  to  the  coarse  and  the  fine  voices,  had  done  great 
things,  yet  his  declamation  was  in  general  too  stiff  and  affected  ; 
whereas  the  new  aspirant  spoke  his   Jonathan  and  David  with 


34  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

exquisite  grace.  My  mother  in  particular  commended  the  gallant 
tone  in  which  I  had  challenged  Goliath,  and  acted  the  modest  victor 
before  the  king.  * 

"From  this  time,  to  my  extreme  delight, *the  theater  continued 
open  ;  and  as  the  spring  advanced,  so  that  fires  could  be  dispensed 
with,  T  passed  all  my  hours  of  recreation  lying  in  the  garret,  and 
making  the  puppets  caper  and  play  together.  Often  I  invited  up  my 
comrades,  or  my  brothers  and  sisters  ;  but  when  they  would  not 
come,  I  stayed  by  myself  not  the  less.  My  imagination  brooded  over 
that  tiny  world,  which  soon  afterwards  acquired  another  form. 

"  Scarcely  had  I  once  or  twice  exhibited  the  first  piece,  for  which 
my  scenery  and  actors  had  been  formed  and  decorated,  till  it  ceased 
to  give  me  any  pleasure.  On  the  other  hand,  among  some  books  of 
hiy  grandfather's,  1  had  happened  to  fall  in  with  the  "German  Thea- 
ter," and  a  few  translations  of  Italian  ojieras  ;  in  which  works  I  soon 
got  very  deeply  immersed,  on  each  occasion  first  reckoning  up  the 
characters,  and  then,  without  farther  ceremony,  proceeding  to 
exhil)it  the  piece.  King  Saul,  with  his  black  velvet  cloak,  was 
therefore  now  obliged  to  personate  Darius  or  Cato,  or  some  other 
pagan  hero  ;  in  which  cases,  it  may  be  observed,  the  plays  were 
never  wholly  represented  ;  for  most  part,  only  the  fifth  acts,  where 
the  cutting  and  stabbing  lay. 

"  It  was  natural  that  the  operas,  with  their  manifold  adventures 
and  vicissitudes,  should  attract  me  more  than  anything  beside.  In 
these  compositions  I  found  stormy  seas,  gods  descending  in  chariots 
of  cloud,  and,  what  most  of  all  delighted  me,  abundance  of  thunder 
and  lightning.  I  did  my  l)est  with  pasteboard,  paint  and  paper  :  I 
could  make  night  very  prettily  ;  my  lightning  was  fearful  to  behold  ; 
only  my  thunder  did  not  always  prosper,  which,  however,  was  of  less 
importance.  In  operas,  moreover,  I  found  frequent  opportunities  of 
introducing  my  David  and  (ioliath,  persons  whom  the  regular  drama 
would  hardly  admit.  Daily  I  felt  more  attachment  for  the  hampered 
spot  where  I  enjoyed  so  many,  pleasures  ;  and  I  must  confess,  the 
fragrance  which  the  puppets  had  acquired  from  the  store-room  added 
not  a  little  to  my  satisfaction. 

"The  decorations  of  my  theater  were  now  in  a  tolerable  state  of 
completeness.  I  had  always  had  the  knack  of  drawing  with  com- 
passes, and  clipping  pasteboard,  and  coloring  figures  ;  and  here  it 
served  me  in  good  stead.  But  the  more  sorry  was  I,  on  the  other 
hand,  when,  as  frequently  happened,  my  stock  of  actors  would  not 
suffice  for  representing  great  affairs. 

"My  sisters  dressing  and  undressing  their  dolls  awoke  in  me  the 
project  of  furnishing  my  heroes  by  and  by  with  garments  which 
might  also  be  put  off  and  on.  Accordingly,  I  slit  the  scraps  of  cloth 
from  oft'  their  bodies  ;  tacked  the  fragments  together  as  well  as  pos- 
sible ;  saved  a  particle  of  money  to  buy  new  ribbons  and  lace  ;  begged 
many  a  rag  of  taffeta ;  and  so  formed,  by  degrees,  a  full  theatrical 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER   VI.  25 

wardrobe,  iu  vvhicli  hoop-petticoats  for  the  ladies  were  especially  re- 
membered. 

"My  troup  was  now  fairly  provided  with  dresses  for  the  most 
important  piece,  and  you  might  have  expected  that  henceforth  one 
exhibition  would  follow  close  upon  the  heels  of  another  :  but  it  hap- 
pened with  me,  as  it  often  happens  with  children  ;  they  embrace  wide 
plans,  make  mighty  preparations,  then  a  few  trials,  and  the  whole 
undertaking  is  abandoned.  1  was  guilty  of  this  fault.  My  greatest 
pleasure  lay  in  the  inventive  part,  and  the  employment  of  my  fancy. 
This  or  that  piece  inspired  me  witli  interest  for  a  few  scenes  of  it,  and 
immediately  1  set  about  providing  new  apparel  suitable  for  the  occa- 
sion. In  such  fluctuating  operations,  many  jjarts  of  the  primary 
dresses  of  my  heroes  had  fallen  into  disorder,  or  totally  gone  out  of 
sight  ;  so  that  now  the  first  great  piece  could  no  longer  be  exhibited. 
I  surrendered  myself  to  my  imagination  ;  I  rehearsed  and  prepared 
forever  ;  built  a  thousand  castles  in  the  air,  and  saw  not  that  I  was  at 
the  same  time  undermining  the  foundations  of  these  little  edifices." 

During  this  recital,  Mariana  had  called  up  and  put  in  action  all  her 
courtesy  for  Wilhelm,  that  she  might  conceal  her  sleepiness.  Divert- 
ing as  the  matter  seemed  on  one  side,  it  was  too  simple  for  her  taste, 
and  her  lover's  view  of  it  too  serious.  She  softly  pressed  her  foot  on 
his,  however,  and  gave  him  all  visible  signs  of  attention  and  approval. 
She  drank  out  of  his  glass  ;  Wilhelm  was  convinced  that  no  word  of 
his  history  had  fallen  to  the  ground.  After  a  short  jjause  he  said  : 
"  It  is  now  your  turn,  Mariana,  to  tell  me  what  were  your  first  child- 
ish joys.  Till  now,  we  have  always  been  too  busy  with  the  present 
to  trouble  ourselves,  on  either  side,  about  our  previous  way  of  life. 
Let  me  hear,  Mariana,  under  what  circumstances  you  were  reared  ; 
what  are  the  very  first  lively  impressions  which  you  still  remember?" 

These  questions  would  have  very  much  embarrassed  Mariana,  had 
not  Barbara  made  haste  to  help  her.  "Think  you,"  said  the  cun- 
ning old  woman,  "  we  have  been  so  mindful  of  what  happened  to  us 
long  ago,  that  we  have  merry  things  like  these  to  talk  about ;  and 
though  we  had,  that  we  could  give  them  such  an  air  in  talking  of 
them  ?  " 

"  As  if  'they  needed  it ! "  cried  Wilhelm.  "  I  love  this  soft,  good, 
amiable  creature  so  much,  that  I  regret  every  instant  of  my  life 
which  has  not  been  spent  beside  her.  Allow  me,  at  least  in  fancy,  to 
have  a  share  in  thy  bygone  life  :  tell  me  everything  ;  I  will  tell  every- 
thing to  thee  !  If  possible,  we  will  deceive  ourselves,  and  win  back 
those  days  that  have  been  lost  to  love." 

"If  you  require  it  so  eagerly,"  replied  the  old  dame,  "we  can 
easily  content  you.  Qnly,  in  the  first  place,  let  us  hear  how  your 
taste*  for  the  theater  gradually  reached  a  head  ;  how  you  practiced, 
how  you  improved  so  happily,  that  now  you  can  pass  for  a  superior 
actor.  No  doubt,  you  must  have  met  with  droll  adventures  in  your 
progress.     It  is  not  worth  while  to  go  to  bed  now  :  I  have  still  one 


§6  meisteU's  apprenticeship. 

flask  in  reserve  ;  and  who  knows  whether  we  shall  soon  all  sit  together 
so  quiet  and  cheery  again  ?  " 

Mariana  cast  a  mournful  look  upon  her,  which  Wilhelm  not  ob» 
serving,  proceeded  with  his  narrative. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


"  The  recreations  of  youth,  as  my  companions  began  to  increase  in 
number,  interfered  with  this  solitary,  still  enjoyment.  I  was  by 
turns  a  hunter,  a  soldier,  a  knight,  as  our  games  required  me  ;  and 
constantly  I  had  this  small  advantage  above  the  rest,  that  I  was  quali- 
fied to  furnish  them  suitably  with  the  necessary  equipments.  The 
swords,  for  example,  were  generally  of  my  manufacture  ;  I  gilded 
and  decorated  the  scabbards  ;  and  a  secret  instinct  allowed  me  not  to 
stop  till  our  militia  was  accoutered  according  to  the  antique  model. 
Helmets,  with  plumes  of  paper,  were  got  ready  ;  shields,  even  coats 
of  mail,  were  provided  :  undertakings  in  which  such  of  the  servants 
as  had  aught  of  the  tailor  in  them,  and  the  seamstresses  of  the  house, 
broke  many  a  needle. 

"  A  part  of  my  comrades  I  had  now  got  well  equipped  ;  by  degrees 
the  rest  were  likewise  furbished  up,  though  on  a  thriftier  plan  ;  and 
so  a  very  seemly  corps  at  length  was  mustered.  We  marched  about 
the  court-yards  and  gardens ;  smote  fearfully  upon  each  other's 
shields  and  heads  :  many  flaws  of  discord  rose  among  us,  but  none 
that  lasted. 

"  This  diversion  greatly  entertained  my  fellows  ;  but  scarcely  had 
it  been  twice  or  thrice  repeated  till  it  ceased  to  content  me.  The 
aspect  of  so  many  harnessed  figures  naturally  stimulated  in  my  mind 
those  ideas  of  chivalry  which,  for  some  time,  since  I  had  commenced 
the  reading  of  old  romances,  were  filling  my  imagination. 

"Koppen's  translation  of  'Jerusalem  Delivered 'at  length  fell  into 
my  hands,  and  gave  these  wandering  thoughts  a  settled  direction. 
The  whole  poem,  it  is  true,  I  could  not  read  ;  but  there  were  pieces 
of  it  which  I  learned  by  heart,  and  the  images  expressed  in  these 
hovered  round  me.  Particularly  was  I  captivated  with  Clorinda,  and 
all  her  deeds  and  bearing.  The  masculine  womanhood,  the  peaceful 
completeness  of  her  being,  had  a  greater  influence  upon  my  mind, 
just  beginning  to  unfold  itself,  than  the  factitious  charms  of  Armida, 
though  the  garden  of  that  enchantress  was  by  no  means  an  object  of 
my  contempt. 

"  But  a  hundred  and  a  hundred  times,  while  walking  in  the  even- 
ings on  the  balcony  which  stretches  along  the  front  of  the  house,  and 
looking  over  the  neighborhood,  as  the  quivering  splendor  streamed 
up  at  the  horizon  from  the  departed  sun,  and  the  stars  came  forth, 


BOOK  T.  CHAPTER  VIl  27 

and  night  pressed  forward  from  every  cleft  and  hollow,  and  the  small 
shrill  tone  of  the  cricket  tinkled  through  the  solemn  stillness— a  hun- 
dred and  a  hundred  times  have  I  repeated  to  myself  the  history  of 
the  mournful  duel  between  Tancred  and  Clorinda. 

"  However  strongly  I  inclined  by  nature  to  the  party  of  the  Christ- 
ians, I  could  not  help  declaring  for  the  Paynim  heroine  with  all  my 
heart,  when  she  engaged  to  set  on  fire  the  great  tower  of  the  be- 
siegers. And  when  Tancred  in  the  darkness  met  the  supposed  knight, 
and  the  strife  began  between  them  under  that  veil  of  gloom,  and  the 
two  battled  fiercely,  I  could  never  pronounce  the  words. 

But  now  the  sure  and  fated  hotir  is  nigh, 
Clorinda's  course  is  ended,  she  must  die  I 

without  tears  rushing  into  my  eyes,-  which  flowed  plentifully,  when 
the  hapless  lover,  plunging  his  sword  into  her  breast,  opened  the  de- 
parting warrior's  helmet,  recognized  the  lady  of  his  heart,  and,  shud- 
dering brought  water  to  baptize  her. 

"  How  did  my  heart  run  over  when  Tancred  struck  with  his  sword 
that  tree  in  the  enchanted  wood  ;  when  blood  flowed  from  the  gash, 
and  a  voice  sounded  in  his  ears,  that  now  again  he  was  wounding 
Clorinda  ;  that  destiny  had  marked  him  out  ever  unwittingly  to  in- 
jure what  he  loved  beyond  all  else  ! 

"  The  recital  took  such  hold  of  my  imagination  that  the  passages  I 
had  read  of  the  poem  began  dimly,  in  my  mind,  to  conglomerate  into 
a  whole  ;  wherewith  I  was  so  taken  that  I  could  not  but  propose  to 
have  it  some  way  represented.  I  meant  to  have  Tancred  and  Rinaldo 
acted,  and  for  this  purpose  two  coats  of  mail,  which  I  had  before 
manufactured,  seemed  expressly  suitable.  The  one,  formed  of  dark- 
gray  paper  with  scales,  was  to  serve  for  the  solemn  Tancred  ;  the 
other,  of  silver  and  gilt  paper,  for  the  magnificent  Rinaldo.  In  the 
vivacity  of  my  anticipations,  I  told  the  whole  project  to  my  comrades, 
who  felt  quite  charmed  with  it,  only  could  not  well  comprehend  how 
so  glorious  a  thing  could  be  exhibited,  and,  above  all,  exhibited  by 
them. 

"  Such  scruples  I  easily  set  aside.  Without  hesitation,  I  took  upon 
me  in  idea  the  management  of  two  rooms  in  the  house  of  a  neighbor- 
ing playmate  ;  not  calculating  that  his  venerable  aunt  would  never 
give  them  up,  or  considering  how  a  theater  could  be  made  of  them, 
whereof  I  had  no  settled  notion,  except  that  it  was  to  be  fixed  on  beams, 
to  have  side  scenes  made  of  parted  folding  screens,  and  on  the  floor  a 
large  piece  of  cloth.  From  what  quarter  these  materials  and  furnish- 
ings were  to  come,  I  had  not  determined. 

"So  far  as  concerned  the  forest,  we  fell  upon  a  good  expedient. 
We  betook  ourselves  to  an  old  servant  of  one  of  our  families,  who  had 
now  become  a  woodman,  with  many  entreaties  that  he  would  get  us  a 
few  young  firs  and  birches  ;  which  actually  arrived  more  speedily 
than  we  had  reason  to  expect.     But,  in  the  next  place,  great  was  q\\v 


28  MEI8TER  '8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

embarrassment  as  to  how  the  piece  should  be  got  up  before  the  trees 
were  withered.  Now  was  the  time  for  prudent  counsel  !  We  had  no 
house,  no  scenery,  no  curtains  ;  the  folding  screens  were  all  we  had. 

"In  this  forlorn  condition  we  again  applied  to  the  lieutenant,  giv- 
ing him  a  copious  description  of  all  the  glorious  things  we  meant  to 
do.  Little  as  he  understood  us,  he  was  very  helpful  :  he  piled  all  the 
tables  he  could  get  in  the  house  or  neighborhood,  one  above  the  other, 
in  a  little  room  ;  to  these  he  fixed  our  folding  screens  ;  and  made  a 
back  view  with  green  curtains,  sticking  up  our  trees  along  with  it. 

"  At  length  the  appointed  evening  came  ;  the  candles  were  lit,  the 
maids  and  children  were  sitting  in  their  places,  the  piece  was  to  go 
forward,  the  whole  corps  of  heroes  was  equipped  and  dressed, — when 
each  for  the  first  time  discovered  that  he  knew  not  what  he  was  to 
say.  In  the  heat  of  invention,  being  quite  immersed  in  present  diffi- 
culties, I  had  forgotten  the  necessity  of  each  understanding  what  and 
where  he  was  to  speak  ;  nor,  in  the  midst  of  our  bustling  preparations, 
had  it  occurred  to  the  rest  ;  each  believing  he  could  easily  enact  a  hero, 
easily  so  speak  and  bear  himself,  as  became  the  personage  into  whose 
world  I  had  transplanted  him.  They  all  stood  wonderstruck,  asking  : 
Wliat  was  to  come  first  ?  I  alone,  having  previously  got  ready  Tan- 
cred's  part,  entered  solus  on  the  scene,  and  began  reciting  some  verses 
of  the  epic.  But  as  the  passage  soon  changed  into  narrative,  and  I, 
while  speaking,  was  at  once  transformed  into  a  third  party,  and  the 
bold  Godfred(,  when  his  turn  came  would  not  venture  forth,  I  was  at 
last  obliged  to  take  leave  of  my  spectators  under  peals  of  laughter  ;  a 
disaster  which  cut  me  to  the  heart.  Thus  had  our  undertaking  proved 
abortive  ;  but  the  company  still  kept  their  places,  still  wishing  to  see 
something.  All  of  us  were  dressed  ;  I  screwed  my  courage  up,  and 
determined,  foul  or  fair,  to  give  them  David  and  Goliath.  Some  of 
my  companions  had  before  this  helped  me  to  exhibit  the  puppet-play  ; 
all  of  them  had  often  seen  it :  we  shared  the  characters  among  us  ; 
each  promised  to  do  his  best  ;  and  one  small  grinning  urchin  painted 
a  black  beard  upon  his  chin,  and  undertook,  if  any  lacuna  should  oc- 
cur, to  fill  it  up  with  drollery  as  Harlequin  ;  an  arrangement  to  which, 
as  contradicting  the  solemnity  of  the  piece,  I  did  not  consent  without 
extreme  reluctance  ;  and  I  vowed  within  myself,  that,  if  once  delivered 
out  of  this  perplexity,  I  would  think  long  and  well  before  risking  the 
exhibition  of  another  piece." 


BOOK  L  CHAPTER  VIII  39 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Mariana,  overpowered  with  sleep,  leaned  upon  her  lover,  who 
clasped  her  close  to  him,  and  proceeded  in  his  narrative,  while  the  old 
damsel  prudently  sipped  up  the  remainder  of  the  wine. 

"  The  embarrassment,"  he  said,  "  into  which,  along  with  my  com- 
panions, 1  had  fallen,  by  attempting  to  act  a  play  that  did  not  any- 
where exist,  was  soon  forgotten.  My  passion  for  representing  each 
romance  I  read,  each  story  that  was  told  me,  would  not  yield  before 
the  most  unmanageable  materials.  I  felt  convinced  that  whatever 
gave  delight  in  iiarrative  must  produce  a  far  deeper  impression  when 
exhibited  ;  I  wanted  to  have  everything  before  my  eyes,  everything 
brought  forth  upon  the  stage.  At  school,  when  the  elements  of  gen- 
eral history  were  related  to  us,  I  carefully  marked  the  passages  %vliere 
any  person  had  been  slain  or  poisoned  in  a  singular  way  ;  and  my 
imagination,  glancing  rapidly  along  the  exposition  and  intrigue,  hast- 
ened to  the  interesting  fifth  act.  Indeed  I  actually  began  to  write 
some  pieces  from  the  end  backwards ;  without,  however,  in  any  of 
them  reaching  the  beginning. 

"  At  the  same  time,  partly  by  inclination,  partly  by  the  counsel  of 
my  good  friends,  who  had  caught  the  fancy  of  acting  plays,  I  read  a 
whole  wilderness  of  theatrical  productions,  as  chance  put  them  into 
my  hands.  I  was  still  in  those  happy  years  when  all  tilings  please  us, 
when  number  and  variety  yield  us  abundant  satisfaction.  Unfor- 
tunately, too,  my  taste  was  corrupted  by  another  circumstance.  Any 
piece  delighted  me,  especially  in  which  I  could  hope  to  give  delight ; 
there  were  few  which  I  did  not  peruse  in  this  agreeable  delusion  ; 
and  my  lively  conceptive  power  enabling  me  to  transfer  myself  into 
all  the  characters,  seduced  me  to  believe  that  I  might  likewise  repre- 
sent them  all.  Hence,  in  the  distribution  of  the  parts,  1  commonly 
selected  such  as  did  not  fit  me  ;  and  always  more  than  one  part,  if  I 
could  by  any  means  accomplish  more. 

'•  In  their  games,  children  can  make  all  things  out  of  any  :  a  staff 
becomes  a  musket,  a  splinter  of  wood  a  sword,  any  bunch  of  cloth  a 
puppet,  any  crevice  a  chamber.  Upon  this  principle  was  our  private 
theater  got  up.  Totally  unacquainted  with  the  measure  of  our 
strength,  we  undertook  all  ;  we  stuck  at  no  qui  pro  quo,  and  felt  con- 
vinced that  every  one  would  take  us  for  what  we  gave  ourselves  out 
to  be.  Now,  however,  our  affairs  went  on  so  soberly  and  smoothly, 
that  I  have  not  even  a  curious  insipidity  to  tell  you  of.  We  first 
played  all  the  few  pieces  in  which  only  males  are  requisite  ;  next,  we 
travestied  some  of  ourselves  ;  and  at  last  took  our  sisters  into  the  con- 
cern along  with  us.  In  one  or  two  houses  our  amusement  was  looked 
upon  as  profitable,  and  company  invited  to  see  it.     Nor  did  our  lieu- 


30  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

tenant  of  artillery  now  turn  liis  back  upon  us.  He  sliowed  us  liow 
we  ought  to  make  our  exits  and  our  entrances  ;  how  we  should 
declaim,  and  with  what  attitudes  and  gestures.  Yet  generally  he 
earned  small  thanks  for  his  toil  :  we  conceived  ourselves  to  be  much 
deeper  in  the  secrets  of  theatrical  art  than  he  himself  was. 

"  We  very  soon  began  to  grow  tired  of  tragedy  ;  for  all  of  us  believed, 
as  we  had  often  heard,  that  it  was  easier  to  write  or  represent  a  tragedy 
than  to  attain  a  proficiency  in  comedy.  In  our  first  attempts,  accord- 
ingly, we  had  felt  as  if  exactly  in  our  element :  dignity  of  rank, 
elevation  of  character,  we  studied  to  approach  by  stiffness  and  affecta- 
tion, and  imagined  that  we  succeeded  rarely  ;  but  our  happiness  was 
not  complete,  except  we  might  rave  outright,  stamp  with  our  feet, 
and  cast  ourselves  upon  the  ground,  full  of  fury  and  despair. 

"  Boys  and  girls  had  not  long  carried  on  these  amusements  in  con- 
cert, till  nature  began  to  take  her  course,  and  our  society  branched 
itself  off  into  sundry  little  love  associations,  as  generally  more  than 
one  sort  of  comedy  is  acted  in  the  playhouse.  Behind  the  scenes,  each 
happy  pair  pressed  hands  in  the  most  tender  style  ;  they  floated  in 
blessedness,  appearing  to  one  another  quite  ideal  persons,  when  so 
transformed  and  decorated  ;  whilst,  on  the  other  hand,  unlucky  rivals 
consumed  themselves  with  envy,  and  out  of  malice  and  spite  worked 
every  species  of  mischief. 

"  Our  amusements,  though  undertaken  without  judgment,  and  car- 
ried on  without  instruction,  were  not  without  their  use  to  us.  We 
trained  our  memories  and  persons  ;  we  acquired  more  dexterity  in 
speech  and  gesture  than  is  usually  met  with  at  so  early  an  age.  But 
for  me  in  particular  this  time  was,  in  truth,  an  epoch  ;  my  mind 
turned  all  its  faculties  exclusively  to  the  theater,  and  my  highest 
happiness  was  in  reading,  in  writing,  or  in  acting  plays. 

"Meanwhile  the  labors  of  my  regular  teachers  continued  ;  I  had 
been  set  apart  for  the  mercantile  life,  and  placed  under  the  guidance 
of  our  neighbor  in  the  counting-house  ;  yet  my  spirit  at  this  very  time 
recoiled  more  forcibly  than  ever  from  all  that  was  to  bind  me  to  a  low 
profession.  It  was  to  the  stage  that  I  aimed  at  consecrating  all  my 
powers  ;  on  the  stage  that  I  meant  to  seek  all  my  happiness  and  satis- 
faction. 

"  I  recollect  a  poem,  which  must  be  among  my  papers,  where  the 
Muse  of  tragic  art  and  another  female  form,  by  which  I  personified 
Commerce,  were  made  to  strive  very  bravely  for  my  most  important 
self.  The  idea  is  common,  and  I  recollect  not  that  the  verses  were  of 
any  worth  ;  but  you  shall  see  it,  for  the  sake  of  the  fear,  the  abhor- 
rence, the  love  and  passion,  which  reign  in  it.  How  repulsively  did 
I  paint  the  old  housewife,  with  the  distaff  in  her  girdle,  the  bunch  of 
keys  by  her  side,  the  spectacles  on  her  nose  ;  ever  toiling,  ever  rest- 
less, quarrelsome  and  penurious,  pitiful  and  dissatisfied  !  How  feel- 
ingly did  I  describe  the  condition  of  that  poor  man  who  has  to  cringe 
beneath  her  rod,  9,nd  earn  his  slavish  day'?  wageg  hj  the  sweat  of  his 
]t)row  j 


SOOK  I.  CHAPTEU  It.  81 

"And  how  differently  advanced  the  other!  What  an  apparition 
for  the  overclouded  mind  !  Formed  as  a  queen,  in  her  thoughts  and 
looks  she  announced  herself  the  child  of  freedom.  The  feeling  of 
her  own  worth  gave  her  dignity  without  pride  :  her  apparel  became 
her,  it  veiled  each  limb  without  constraining  it  ;  and  the  rich  folds 
repeated,  like  a  thousand-voiced  echo,  the  graceful  movements  of 
the  goddess.  What  a  contrast  !  How  easy  for  me  to  decide  !  Nor 
had  I  forgotten  the  more  peculiar  characteristics  of  my  muse. 
Crowns  and  daggers,  chains  and  masks,  as  my  predecessors  had 
delivered  them,  were  here  produced  once  more.  The  contention 
was  keen  ;  the  speeches  of  both  were  palpably  enough  contrasted,  for 
at  fourteen  years  of  age  one  usually  paints  the  black  lines  and  the 
white  pretty  near  each  other.  The  old  lady  spoke  as  beseemed  a 
person  that  would  pick  up  a  pin  from  her  path  ;  the  other,  like  one 
that  could  give  away  kingdoms.  The  warning  threats  of  the  house- 
wife were  disregarded  ;  I  turned  my  back  upon  her  promised  riches  ; 
disinherited  and  naked,  I  gave  myself  up  to  the  muse  ;  she  threw 
her  golden  veil  over  me,  and  called  me  hers. 

"Could  I  have  thought,  my  dearest,"  he  exclaimed,  pressing 
Mariana  close  to  him,  "that  another  and  a  more  lovely  goddess 
would  come  to  encourage  me  in  my  purpose,  to  travel  with  me  on 
my  journey,  the  poem  might  have  had  a  finer  turn,  a  far  more  inter- 
esting end.  Yet  it  is  no  poetry  ;  it  is  truth  and  life  that  I  feel  in  thy 
arms  ;  let  us  prize  the  sweet  happiness,  and  consciously  enjoy  it." 

The  pressure  of  his  arms,  the  emotion  of  his  elevated  voice,  awoke 
Mariana,  who  hastened  by  caresses  to  conceal  her  embarrassment ; 
for  no  word  of  the  last  part  of  his  story  had  reached  her.  It  is  to  be 
wished,  that  in  future,  our  hero,  when  recounting  his  favorite  his- 
tories, may  find  more  attentive  hearers. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Thus  Wilhelm  passed  his  nights  in  the  enjoyment  of  confiding 
love  ;  his  days  in  the  expectation  of  new  happy  hours.  When  desire 
and  hope  had  first  attracted  him  to  Mariana,  he  already  felt  as  if 
inspired  with  new  life  ;  felt  as  if  he  were  beginning  to  be  another 
man  :  he  was  now  united  to  her  ;  the  contentment  of  his  wishes  had 
become  a  delicious  habitude.  His  heart  strove  to  ennoble  the  object 
of  his  passion  ;  his  spirit  to  exalt  with  it  the  young  creature  whom 
he  loved.  In  the  shortest  absence,  thoughts  of  her  arose  within 
him.  If  she  had  once  been  necessary  to  him,  she  was  now  grown 
indispensable,  now  that  he  was  bound  to  her  by  all  the  ties  of  nature. 
His  pure  soul  felt  that  she  was  the  half,  more  than  the  half  of  him- 
self.    He  was  grateful  and  devoted  without  limit. 


32  MEISTER  '8  A  PPB  ENTICEflHlP. 

Mariana,  too,  succeeded  in  deceiving  herself  for  a  season  ;  she 
shared  with  him  the  feeling  of  his  liveliest  blessedness.  Alas,  if  the 
cold  hand  of  self-reproach  had  not  often  come  across  her  heart  !  She 
was  not  secure  from  it  even  in  Wilhelra's  bosom,  even  under  the 
wings  of  his  love.  And  when  she  was  again  left  alone,  again  left  to 
sink  from  the  clouds,  to  wliich  passion  had  exalted  her,  into  the  con- 
sciousness of  her  real  condition,  then  she  was  indeed  to  be  pitied. 
So  long  as  she  had  lived  among  degrading  perplexities,  disguising 
from  herself  her  real  situation,  or  rather  never  thinking  of  it,  friv- 
olity had  helped  her  through  ;  the  incidents  she  was  exposed  to  had 
come  upon  her  each  by  itself  ;  satisfaction  and  vexation  liad  can- 
celed one  another  ;  humiliation  had  been  compensated  by  vanity  ; 
want  by  frequent  though  momentary  superfluity  ;  she  could  plead 
necessity  and  custom  as  a  law  or  an  excuse  ;  and  hitherto  all  painful 
emotions  from  hour  to  hour,  and  from  day  to  day,  had  by  these 
means  been  shaken  off.  But  now,  for  some  instants,  the  poor  girl 
had  felt  herself  transported  to  a  better  world  ;  aloft,  as  it  were,  in 
the  midst  of  light  and  joy,  she  had  looked  down  upon  the  abject 
desert  of  her  life,  had  felt  what  a  miserable  creature  is  the  woman 
who,  inspiring  desire,  does  not  also  inspire  reverence  and  lave  ;  she 
regretted  and  repented,  but  found  herself  outwardly  or  inwardly  no 
better  for  regret.  She  had  nothing  that  she  could  accomplish  or 
resolve  upon.  Looking  into  herself  and  searching,  all  was  waste, 
and  void  within  her  soul  ;  her  heart  had  no  place  of  strength  or 
refuge.  But  the  more  sorrowful  her  state  was,  the  more  vehemently 
did  her  feelings  cling  to  the  man  whom  she  had  loved  ;  her  passion 
for  him  even  waxed  stronger  daily,  as  the  danger  of  losing  him  came 
daily  nearer. 

Wilhelm,  on  the  other  hand,  soared  serenely  happy  in  higher 
regions  ;  to  him  also  a  new  world  had  been  disclosed,  but  a  world 
rich  in  the  most  glorious  prospects.  Scarcely  had  the  first  excess  of 
joy  subsided,  when  all  that  had  long  been  gliding  dimly  through  his 
soul  stood  up  in  bright  distinctness  before  it.  She  is  thine  !  She  has 
given  herself  away  to  thee  !  She,  the  loved,  the  wished-for,  the  adored, 
has  given  herself  away  to  thee  in  trust  and  faith  ;  she  shall  not  find 
thee  ungrateful  for  the  gift.  Standing  or  walking,  he  talked  to  him- 
self ;  his  heart  constantly  overflowed  ;  with  a  copiousness  of  splendid 
words,  he  uttered  to  himself  the  loftiest  emotions.  He  imagined  that 
he  understood  the  visible  beckoning  of  fate  reaching  out  its  hand  by 
Mariana  to  save  him  from  the  stagnant,  weary,  drudgiiig  life  out  of 
which  he  had  so  often  wished  for  ileliverance.  To  leave  his  father's 
house  and  people  now  ai^pearod  a  light  matter.  He  was  young,  and 
had  not  tried  the  world  ;  his  eagerness  to  range  over  its  expanses, 
seeking  fortune  and  contentment,  was  stimulated  by  his  love.  His 
vocation  to  the  theater  was  now  clear  to  him  ;  the  high  goal,  which 
he  saw  raised  before  hi?n,  seemed  nearer  wliilst  he  was  advancing  to 
it  with  Mariana's  hand  in  his  ;  and  in  his  comfortable  prudence,  he 


BOOK  I  CHAPTER  X  33 

Tbeheld  in  himself  the  embryo  of  a  great  actor  ;  the  future  founder  of 
that  national  theater,  for  wliicli  he  heard  so  much  and  various  sigh- 
ing on  every  side.  All  that  till  now  had  slumbered,  in  the  most 
secret  corners  of  his  soul,  at  length  awoke,  lie  painted  for  himself 
a  picture  of  his  manifold  ideas,  in  tlie  colors  of  love,  upon  a  canvas 
■of  cloud  :  the  figures  of  it,  indeed,  ran  sadly  into  one  another;  yet 
the  whole  had  an  air  but  the  more  brilliant  on  that  account. 


CHAPTER  X. 


He  was  now  in  his  chamber  at  home,  ransacking  his  papers,  mak- 
ing ready  for  departure.  Whatever  savored  of  his  previous  employ- 
ment he  threw  aside,  meaning  at  his  entrance  upon  life  to  be  free 
even  from  recollections  that  could  paiu  him.  Works  of  taste  alone, 
poets  and  critics,  were,  as  acknowledged  friends,  placed  among  the 
■chosen  few.  Heretofore  he  had  given  little  heed  to  the  critical  au- 
thors :  his  desire  for  instruction  now  revived,  when,  again  looking 
through  his  books,  he  found  the  theoretical  part  of  them  lying  gener- 
ally still  uncut.  Ill  the  full  persuasion  that  such  works  were  abso- 
lutely necessary,  heliad  bouglit  a  number  of  them  ;  but,  with  the  best 
disposition  in  the  world,  he  had  not  reached  midway  in  any. 

The  more  steadfastly,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  dwelt  upon  exam- 
ples ;  and  in  every  kind  that  was  Icnown  to  him,  had  made  attempts 
himself. 

Werner  entered  the  room  ;  and  seeing  his  friend  busied  with  the 
well-known  sheets,  he  exclaimed  :  "  Again  among  your  papers  V  And 
without  intending,  I  dare  swear,  to  finish  any  one  of  them  !  You 
look  them  through  and  through  once  or  twice,  then  throw  them  by, 
and  begin  something  new." 

"To  finish  is  not  the  scholar's  care  ;  it  is  enough  if  he  improves 
himself  by  practice." 

"  But  also  completes  according  to  his  best  ability." 

"  And  still  the  question  might  be  asked,  is  there  no  good  hope  of  a 
youth  who,  op  commencing  some  unsuitable  affair,  soon  discovers  its 
unsuitableness,  and  discontinues  his  exertions,  not  choosing  to  spend 
toil  and  time  on  what  never  can  be  of  any  value  ?  " 

"  I  know  well  enough  it  was  never  your  concern  to  bring  aught  to 
a  conclusion  ;  you  have  always  sickened  on  it  before  it  came  half-way. 
When  you  were  the  director  of  our  puppet-show,  for  instance,  how 
many  times  were  fresh  clothes  got  ready  for  the  dwarfish  troup,  fresh 
decorations  furbished  up  !  Now  this  tragedy  was  to  be  played,  now 
that  ;  and  at  the  very  best  you  gave  us  some  fifth  act,  wliere  all  was 
going  topsy-turvy  ;  and  people  cutting  one  another's  throats." 

"  If  you  talk  of  those  times,  whose  blame  really  was  it  that  we 
Meister — 2 


34  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

ripped  off  from  our  puppets  the  clotlies  that  fitted  them,  and  were  fast 
stitched  to  their  bodies,  and  laid  out  monev  for  a  large  and  useless 
wardrobe  ?  Was  it  not  yours,  my  good  friend,  who  had  always  some 
fragment  of  ribbon  to  traiBc  ^vith  :  and  skill,  at  the  same  time,  to 
stimulate  my  taste,  and  turn  it  to  your  profit  ?  " 

Werner  laughed,  and  continued  :  "I  still  recollect,  with  pleasure, 
how  I  used  to  extract  gain  from  your  theatrical  campaigns,  as  army 
contractors  do  from  war.  When  you  mustered  for  tlie  '  Deliverance 
of  Jerusalem,'  I,  for  my  part,  made  a  pretty  thing  of  profit,  like  the 
Venetians  in  the  corresponding  case.  1  know  of  nothing  in  the  world 
more  rational  than  to  turn  the  folly  of  others  to  our  own  advantage." 

"  Perhaps  it  were  a  noisier  satisfaction  to  cure  men  of  their  fol- 
lies." 

"  From  the  little  I  know  of  men,  this  might  seem  a  vain  endeavor. 
But  something  towards  it  is  always  done,  when  any  individual  man 
grows  wise  and  rich  ;  and  generally  this  happens  at  the  cost  of  others. " 

"  Well,  here  is  '  The  Youth  at  the  Parting  of  the  Ways ';  it  has 
just  come  into  my  hand,"  said  W'ilhelm,  drawing  out  a  fold  of  papers 
from  the  rest  ;  "  this  at  least  is  finished,  whatever  else  it  may  be." 

"  Away  with  it,  to  the  fire  with  it  ! "  cried  Werner.  "  The  inven- 
tion does  not  deserve  the  smallest  praise  :  that  affair  has  plagued  me 
enough  already,  and  drawn  upon  yourself  your  father's  wrath.  The 
verses  may  be  altogether  beautiful  ;  but  themeatiing  of  them  is  funda- 
mentally false.  1  still  recollect  your  Commerce  personified  ;  a  shriv- 
eled, wretched-looking  sibyl  she  was.  I  suppose  you  picked  up  the 
image  of  her  from  some  miserable  huckster's  shop.  At  that  time,  you 
had  no  true  idea  at  all  of  trade  ;  whilst  I  could  not  think  of  any  man 
whose  spirit  was,  or  needed  to  be,  more  enlarged  than  the  spirit  of  a 
genuine  merchant.  What  a  thing  it  is  to  see  the  order  which  prevails 
throughout  his  business  !  By  means  of  this  he  can  at  any  time  sur- 
vey the  general  whole,  without  needing  to  perplex,  himself  in  the 
details.  What  advantages  does  he  derive  from  the  system  of  book- 
keeping by  double  entry  !  It  is  among  the  finest  inventions  of  the 
human  mind  ;  every  prudent  master  of  a  house  should  introduce  it 
in  his  economy." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Wilhelm,  smiling  ;  "you  begin  by  the  form,  as 
if  it  were  the  matter  ;  you  traders  commonly,  in  your  additions  and 
balancings,  forget  what  is  the  proper  net  result  of  life." 

"My  good  friend,  you  do  not  see  how  form  and  matter  are  in  this 
case  one  ;  hoAv  neither  can  exist  without  the  other.  Order  and  arrange- 
ment increase  the  desire  to  save  and  get.  A  man  embarrassed  in 
his  circumstances,  and  conducting  them  imprudently,  likes  best  to  con- 
tinue in  the  dark  ;  he  Avill  not  gladly  reckon  up  the  debtor  entries  he 
is  charged  with.  But  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  nothing  to  a  prudent 
manager  more  pleasant  than  daily  to  set  before  himself  the  sums  of 
his  growing  fortune.  Even  a  mischance,  if  it  surprise  and  vex,  will 
not  affright  him  ;  for  he  knows  at  once  what  gains  he  has  acquired  to 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  X.  35 

cast  into  the  other  scale.  I  am  convinced,  my  friend,  that  if  you  once 
had  a  proper  taste  for  our  employments,  you  would  grant  that  many 
faculties  of  the  mind  are  called  into  full  and  vigorous  play  by  them." 

"Possibly  this  journey  I  am  thinking  of  may  bring  me  to  other 
thoughts." 

"0,  certainly.  Believe  me,  you  want  but  to  look  upon  some  great 
scene  of  activity  to  make  you  ours  forever  ;  and  when  you  come  back, 
you  will  joyfully  enroll  yourself  among  that  class  of  men  whose  art 
it  is  to  draw  towards  themselves  a  portion  of  the  money,  and  materials 
of  enjoyment,  which  circulate  in  their  appointed  courses  through  the 
world.  Cast  a  look  on  the  natural  and  artificial  productions  of  all  the 
regions  of  the  earth  ;  consider  how  they  have  become,  one  here, 
another  there,  articles  of  necessity  for  men.  How  pleasant  and  how 
intellectual  a  task  is  it  to  calculate,  at  any  moment,  M'hat  is  most 
required,  and  yet  is  wanting,  or  hard  to  find  ;  to  jjrocure  for  each 
easily  and  soon  what  he  demands  :  to  lay  in  your  stock  prudently  be- 
forehand, and  then  to  enjoy  the  profit  of  every  pulse  in  that  mighty 
circulation.  This,  it  appears  to  me,  is  what  no  man  that  has  a  head 
can  attend  to  without  pleasure." 

Wilhelm  seemed  to  acquiesce,  and  Werner  continued. 

"  Do  but  visit  one  or  two  great  trading -towns,  one  or  two  sea-ports, 
and  see  if  you  can  withstand  the  impression.  When  you  observe  how 
many  men  are  busied,  whence  so  many  things  have  come,  and  whither 
they  are  going,  you  will  feel  as  if  you  too  could  gladly  mingle  in  the 
business.  You  will  then  see  the  smallest  piece  of  ware  in  its  connec- 
tion with  the  whole  mercantile  concern  ;  and  for  that  very  reason  you 
wiU  reckon  nothing  paltry,  because  everything  augments  the  circula- 
tion by  which  you  yourself  are  supported." 

Werner  had  formed  his  solid  understanding  in  constant  inter- 
course with  Wilhelm  ;  he  was  thus  accustomed  to  think  also  of  his 
profession,  of  7a'.s  employments,  with  elevation  of  soul  ;  and  he  firmly 
believed  that  he  did  so  with  more  j  ustice  than  his  otherwise  more 
gifted  and  valued  friend,  who,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  had  placed  his 
dearest  hopes,  and  directed  all  the  force  of  his  mind,  upon  the  most 
imaginary  objects  in  the  world.  Many  a  time  he  thought  this  false 
enthusiasm  would  infallibly  be  got  the  better  of,  and  so  excellent  a 
soul  be  brought  back  to  the  right  path.  So,  hoping  in  the  present 
instance,  he  continued  :  "The  great  ones  of  the  world  have  taken 
this  earth  of  ours  to  themselves  ;  they  live  in  the  midst  of  splendor 
and  superfluity.  The  smallest  nook  of  the  land  is  already  a  posses- 
sion, none  may  touch  it  or  meddle  with  it  ;  offices  and  civic  callings 
bring  in  little  profit  ;  where,  then,  will  you  find  more  honest  acqui- 
sitions, juster  conquests,  than  those  of  trade?  If  the  princes  of  this 
world  hold  the  rivers,  the  highways,  the  havens  in  their  power,  and 
take  a  heavy  tribute  from  everything  that  passes  through  them,  may 
not  we  embrace  with  joy  the  opportunity  of  levying  tax  and  toll,  by 
QUr  activity,  on  those  commodities  which  the  real  or  imaginary  wants 


36  MEISTER'B  APPREWTIGESHIP. 

of  men  have  rendered  indispensable  ?  I  can  promise  you,  if  you 
would  rightly  apply  your  poetic  view,  my  goddess  miglit  be  repre- 
sented as  an  invincible,  victorious  queen,  and  boldly  opposed  to  yours. 
It  is  true,  she  bears  the  olive  rather  than  the  sword  :  dagger  or  chain 
she  knows  not  ;  but  she,  too,  gives  crowns  to  her  favorites  ;  which, 
without  offense  to  yours  be  it  said,  are  of  true  gold  from  the  furnace 
and  the  mine,  and  glance  with  genuine  pearls,  which  she  brings  up 
from  the  depths  of  the  ocean,  by  the  hands  of  her  unwearied  ser- 
vants." 

This  sally  somewhat  nettled  Wilhelm  ;  but  he  concealed  his  senti- 
ments, remembering  that  Werner  used  to  listen  with  composure  to 
his  apostrophes.  Besides,  he  had  fairness  enough  to  be  pleased  at 
seeing  each  man  think  the  best  of  his  own  peculiar  craft ;  provided 
only  his,  of  which  he  was  so  passionately  fond,  were  likewise  left  in 
peace. 

"  And  for  you,"  exclaimed  "Werner,  "  who  take  so  warm  an  interest 
in  human  concerns,  what  a  sight  will  it  be  to  behold  the  fortune 
which  accompanies  bold  undertakings  distributed  to  men  before  your 
eyes.  What  is  more  spirit-stirring  than  the  aspect  of  a  ship  arriving 
from  a  lucky  voyage,  or  soon  returning  with  a  rich  capture  ?  Not 
alone  the  relatives,  the  acquaintances,  and  those  that  share  with  the 
adventurers,  but  every  unconcerned  spectator  also  is  excited,  when  he 
sees  the  joy  with  which  the  long-imprisoned  shipman  springs  on  land 
before  his  keel  has  wholly  reached  it,  feeling  that  he  is  free  once 
more,  and  now  can  trust  what  he  has  rescued  from  the  false  sea  to 
the  firm  and  faithful  earth.  It  is  not,  my  friend,  in  figures  of  arith- 
metic alone  that  gain  presents  itself  before  us  ;  fortune  is  the  god- 
dess of  breathing  men  ;  to  feel  her  favors  truly,  we  must  live  and  be 
men  who  toil  with  their  living  minds  and  bodies,  and  enjoy  wittlQieni. 
also." 


CHAPTER    XL 


It  is  now  time  that  we  should  know  something  more  of  Wilhelm's 
father  and  of  Werner's  ;  two  men  of  very  different  modes  of  thinking, 
but  whose  opinions  so  far  coincided,  that  both  regarded  commerce  as 
the  noblest  calling,  and  both  were  peculiarly  attentive  to  every  ad- 
vantage which  any  kind  of  speculation  might  produce  to  them.  Old 
Meister,  when  his  father  died,  had  turned  into  money  a  valuable  col- 
lection of  pictures,  drawings,  copperplates  and  antiquities  :  he  had 
entirely  rebuilt  and  furnished  his  house  in  the  mewest  style,  and 
turned  his  other  property  to  profit  in  all  possible  ways..  A  considerable 
portion  of  it  lie  liad  embarked  in  trade,  under  the  direcftion  of  the  elder 
Werner,  a  man  noted  as  an  active  merchant,  whose  speculations  were 
commonly  favored  by  fortune.     But  nothing  was  so  much  desired  by 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XL  37 

Meister  as  to  confer  upon  his  son  tliose  qualities  of  which  himself 
was  destitute,  and  to  leave  his  children  advantages  which  he  reckoned 
it  of  the  highest  importance  to  possess.  Withal,  he  felt  a  peculiar 
inclination  for  magnificence  ;  for  whatever  catches  the  eye,  and  pos- 
sesses at  the  same  time  real  worth  and  durability.  In  his  house  he 
would  have  all  things  solid  and  massive  ;  his  stores  must  be  copious 
and  rich  ;  all  his  plate  must  be  heavy  ;  the  furniture  of  his  table 
costly.  On  the  other  hand,  his  guests  were  seldom  invited  ;  for 
every  dinner  was  a  festival,  which,  both  for  its  expense  and  for  its 
inconvenience,  could  not  often  be  repeated.  The  ceremony  of  his 
house  went  on  at  a  settled,  uniform  rate  ;  and  everything  that  moved 
or  had  place  in  it  was  just  what  yielded  no  one  any  real  enjoyment. 

The  elder  Werner,  in  his  dark  and  hampered  house,  led  quite 
another  sort  of  life.  The  business  of  the  day,  in  his  narrow  counting- 
house,  at  his  ancient  desk,  once  done,  \Yerner  liked  to  eat  well,  and, 
if  possible,  to  drink  better.  Nor  could  he  fully  enjoy  good  things  in 
solitude  ;  with  his  family  he  must  always  see  at  table  his  friends,  and 
any  stranger  that  had  the  slightest  connection  with  his  house.  His 
chairs  were  of  unknown  age  and  antique  fashion  :  but  he  daily  invited 
some  to  sit  on  them.  The  dainty  victuals  arre.sted  the  attention  of  his 
guests,  and  none  remarked  that  they  were  served  up  in  common  ware. 
His  cellar  held  no  great  stock  of  wine  ;  but  the  emptied  niches  were 
usually  filled  by  more  of  a  superior  sort. 

So  lived  these  two  fathers,  often  meeting  to  take  counsel  about  their 
common  concerns.  On  the  day  we  are  speaking  of,  it  had  been  de- 
termined to  send  Wilhelm  out  from  home,  for  the  dispatch  of  some 
commercial  affairs. 

"  Let  him  look  about  him  in  the  world,"  said  old  Meister,  "and  at 
the  same  time  carry  on  our  business  in  distant  parts.  One  cannot  do  a 
young  man  any  greater  kindness,  than  initiate  him  early  in  the  future 
business  of  his  life.  Your  son  returned  so  happily  from  his  first  ex- 
pedition, and  transacted  his  affairs  so  cleverly  that  I  am  verj'  curious 
to  see  how  mine  will  do  :  Ms  experience,  I  fear,  will  cost  him  dearer." 

Old  Meister  had  a  high  notion  of  his  son's  faculties  and  capabili- 
ties ;  he  said  this  in  the  hope  that  his  friend  would  contradict  him, 
and  hold  up  to  view  the  admirable  gifts  of  the  youth.  Here,  how- 
ever, he  deceived  himself  ;  old  Werner,  who,  in  practical  concerns, 
would  trust  no  man  but  such  as  he  had  proved,  answered  placidly  : 
"  One  must  try  all  things  ;  we  can  send  him  on  tlie  same  journey,  we 
shall  give  him  a  paper  of  directions  to  conduct  him.  There  are  sundry 
debts  to  be  gathered  in,  old  connections  are  to  be  renewed,  new  ones 
to  be  made.  He  may  likewise  help  the  speculation  I  was  lately  talk- 
ing of  ;  for  without  punctual  intelligence  gathered  on  the  spot,  there 
is  little  to  be  done  in  it."  • 

"He  must  prepare,"  said  Meister,  "and  set  forth  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble.    Where  shall  we  get  a  horse  for  him  to  siiit  this  business  ?  " 

"  We  shall  not  seek  far.     The  shopkeeper  in  H ,  who  owes  us 


38  MEIISTEB'8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

somewhat,  but  is  withal  a  good  man,  has  offered  me  a  horse  instead 
of  payment.     My  son  knows  it,  and  tells  me  it  is  a  serviceable  beast." 

"  He  may  fetch  it  himself  ;  let  him  go  with  the  diligence  ;  the  day 
after  to-morrow  he  is  back  again  betimes  ;  we  have  his  saddle-bags 
and  letters  made  ready  in  the  meantime  ;  he  can  set  out  on  Monday 
morning. " 

Wilhelm  was  sent  for,  and  informed  of  their  determination.  Who 
so  glad  as  he,  now  seeing  the  means  of  executing  his  purpose  put  into 
his  hands,  the  opportunity  made  ready  for  him,  without  co-operation 
of  his  own  !  So  intense  was  his  love,  so  full  was  his  conviction  of  the 
perfect  rectitude  of  his  intention  to  escape  from  the  pressure  of  his 
actual  mode  of  life,  and  follow  a  new  and  nobler  career,  that  his  con- 
science did  no'  in  the  least  rebel  ;  no  anxiety  arose  within  him  ;  he 
even  reckoned  the  deception  he  was  meditating  holy.  He  felt  certain 
that,  in  the  long-run,  parents  and  relations  would  praise  and  bless  him 
for  this  resolution  :  he  acknowledged  in  these  concurring  circum- 
stances the  signal  of  a  guiding  fate. 

How  slowly  the  time  passed  with  him  till  night,  till  the  hour 
when  he  should  again  see  his  Mariana  !  He  sat  in  his  chamber,  and 
revolved  the  plan  of  his  journey  ;  as  a  conjuror,  or  a  cunning  thief  in 
durance  often  draws  out  his  feet  from  the  fast-locked  irons,  to  cherish 
in  himself  the  conviction  that  his  deliverance  is  possible,  nay  nearer 
than  short-sighted  turnkeys  believe. 

At  last  the  appointed  hour  struck  :  he  went  out,  shook  off  all  anx- 
iety, and  hastened  through  the  silent  streets.  In  the  middle  of  the 
great  square,  he  raised  his  hands  to  the  sky,  feeling  as  if  all  was  be- 
hind him  and  below  him  ;  he  had  freed  himself  from  all.  One  mo- 
ment he  figured  himself  as  in  the  arms  of  his  beloved,  the  next  as 
glancing  with  her  in  the  splendors  of  the  stage  ;  he  soared  aloft  in  a 
world  of  hopes,  only  now  and  then  the  call  of  some  watchman  brought 
to  his  recollection  that  he  was  still  wandering  on  the  vulgar  earth. 

Mariana  came  to  the  stairs  to  meet  him  ;  and  how  beautiful,  how 
lovely  !  She  received  him  in  the  new  white  neglig6  ;  he  thought  he 
had  never  seen  her  so  charming.  Thus  did  she  handsel  the  gift  of 
her  absent  lover  in  the  arms  of  a  present  one  ;  with  true  passion,  she 
lavished  on  her  darling  the  whole  treasure  of  those  caresses,  which 
nature  suggested,  or  art  had  taixght  :  need  we  ask  if  he  was  happy,  if 
he  was  blessed ':' 

He  disclosed  to  her  what  had  passed,  and  showed  her,  in  general 
terms,  his  plan  and  his  wishes.  He  would  try,  he  said,  to  find  a  resi- 
dence, then  come  back  for  her  ;  he  hoped  she  would  not  refuse  him 
her  hand.  The  poor  girl  was  silent ;  she  concealed  her  tears,  and 
pressed  her  friend  against  her  bo.som.  Wilhelm,  though  interpreting 
her  silence  in  the  most  favorable  manner,  could  have  wished  for  a  dis- 
tinct reply  ;  and  still  more,  when  at  last  he  inquired  of  her  in  the 
tenderest  and  most  delicate  terms,  if  he  might  not  think  himself  a 
father.     But  to  this  she  answered  only  with  a  sigh,  with  a  kiss. 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XII.  89 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Next  morning  Mariana  woke  only  to  new  despondency ;  slie  felt 
herself  very  solitary,  she  wished  not  to  see  the  light  of  day,  but 
stayed  in  bed,  and  wept.  Old  Barbara  sat  down  by  her,  and  tried  to 
persuade  and  console  her  ;  but  it  was  not  in  her  power  so  soon  to  heal 
the  wounded  heart.  The  moment  was  now  at  hand,  to  which  the 
poor  girl  had  been  looking  forward  as  to  the  last  of  her  life.  Who 
could  be  placed  in  a  more  painful  situation  !  The  man  she  loved  was 
departing  ;  a  disagreeable  lover  was  threatening  to  come  ;  and  the 
most  fearful  mischiefs  were  to  be  anticipated,  if  the  two,  as  might 
easily  happen,  should  meet  together. 

"Calm  yourself,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  woman;  "do  not  spoil 
your  pretty  eyes  with  crying.  Is  it,  then,  so  terrible  a  thing  to  have 
two  lovers  ?  And  though  you  can  bestow  your  love  but  on  the  one, 
yet  be  thankful  to  the  other,  who,  caring  for  you  as  he  does,  certainly 
deserves  to  be  named  your  friend." 

"  My  poor  Wilhelm,"  said  the  other,  all  in  tears,  "had  warning 
that  a  separation  was  at  hand.  A  dream  discovered  to  him  what  we 
strove  so  much  to  hide.  He  was  sleeping  calmly  at  my  side  ;  on  a 
sudden  I  heard  him  muttering  some  unintelligible  sounds  ;  I  grew 
frightened,  and  awoke  him.  Ah  !  with  what  love  and  tenderness  and 
warmth  did  he  clasp  me  !  '  0  Mariana  ! '  cried  he,  '  what  a  horrid  fate 
have  you  freed  me  from  !  How  shall  I  thank  you  for  deliverance 
from  such  torment !  I  dreamed  that  I  was  far  from  you,  in  an 
unknown  country,  but  your  figure  hovered  before  me  ;  I  saw  you  on 
a  beautiful  hill,  the  sunshine  was  glancing  over  it  all  ;  how  charm- 
ing did  you  look  !  But  it  had  not  lasted  long,  till  I  observed  your 
image  sinking  down,  sinking,  sinking ;  I  stretched  out  ray  arms 
towards  you  ;  they  could  not  reach  you  through  the  distance.  Your 
image  still  kept  gliding  down  ;  it  approached  a  great  sea  that  lay  far 
extended  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  a  marsh  rather  than  a  sea.  All  at 
once  a  man  gave  you  his  hand,  and  seemed  meaning  to  conduct  you 
upwards,  but  he  led  you  sidewards,  and  appeared  to  draw  you  after 
him.  I  cried  out ;  as  I  could  not  reach  you,  I  hoped  to  warn  you.  If 
I  tried  to  walk,  the  ground  seemed  to  hold  me  fast ;  if  I  could  walk, 
the  water  hindered  me  ;  and  even  my  cries  were  smothered  in  my 
breast.'  So  said  the  poor  youth,  while  recovering  from  his  terror, 
and  reckoning  himself  happy  to  dissipate  a  frightful  dream  by  the 
most  delicious  reality." 

Barbara  made  every  effort  to  reduce,  by  her  prose,  the  poetry  of  her 
friend  to  the  domain  of  common  life  ;  eniploying,  in  the  present  case, 
the  ingenious  craft  which  so  often  succeeds  with  bird-catchers,  when 
thev  imitate  with  a  whistle  the  tones  of  those  luckless  creatures  which 


40  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

they  soon  liope  to  see  by  dozens  safely  lodged  in  their  nets.  She 
praised  Wilhelm  ;  she  expatiated  on  his  figure,  his  eyes,  his  love. 
The  poor  girl  heard  her  with  a  gratified  heart ;  then  arose,  let  herself 
be  dressed,  and  appeared  calmer.  "  My  child,  my  darling,"  continued 
the  old  woman,  in  a  cozening  tone,  "  I  will  not  trouble  you  or  injure 
you  ;  I  cannot  think  of  tearing  from  you  your  dearest  happiness. 
Could  you  mistake  my  intention  ?  Have  you  forgotten,  that  on  all 
occasions  I  have  cared  for  you  more  than  for  myself  ?  Tell  me  only 
what  you  wish  ;  we  shall  soon  see  how  it  may  be- brought  about." 

"  What  can  I  wish  ?  "  said  Mariana  ;  "  I  am  miserable,  miserable  for 
life  ;  I  love  him,  and  he  loves  me  ;  yet  I  see  that  I  must  part  with 
him,  and  know  not  how  I  shall  survive  it.  Norberg  comes,  to  whom 
we  owe  our  whole  subsistence,  whom  we  cannot  live  without.  Wil- 
helm is  straitened  in  his  fortune,  he  can  do  nothing  for  me." 

"Yes,  unfortunately,  he  is  of  those  lovers  who  bring  nothing  but 
their  hearts  ;  and  these  people,  too,  have  the  highest  pretensions  of 
any." 

"  No  jesting  !  The  unhappy  youth  thinks  of  leaving  his  home,  of 
going  upon  the  stage,  of  offering  me  his  hand." 

"  Of  empty  hands  we  have  already  four." 

"  I  have  no  choice,"  continued  Mariana  ;  "do  you  decide  for  me  ! 
Cast  me  away  to  this  side  or  that-;  mark  only  one  thing :  1  think  I 
carry  in  my  bosom  a  pledge  that  ought  to  unite  me  with  him  still 
more  closely.  Consider  and  determine  :  whom  shall  I  forsake  ?  wliom 
shall  I  follow?" 

After  a  short  silence,  Barbara  exclaimed  :  ' '  Strange,  that  youth 
should  always  be  for  extremes  !  To  my  view,  nothing  would  be 
easier  than  for  us  to  combine  both  the  profit  and  enjoyment.  Do  you 
love  the  one,  let  the  other  pay  for  it :  all  we  have  to  mind  is  being 
sharp  enough  to  keep  the  two  from  meeting." 

"  Do  as  you  please  ;  I  can  imagine  nothing,  but  I  will  follow." 

"  We  have  this  advantage,  we  can  humor  the  manager's  caprice, 
and  pride  about  the  morals  of  histroup.  Both  lovers  are  accustomed 
already  to  go  secretly  and  cunningly  to  work.  For  hours  and  oppor- 
tunity I  will  take  thought  ;  only  henceforth  you  must  play  the  part 
that  I  prescribe  to  you.  Who  knows  what  circumstances  may  arise 
to  help  us  ?  If  Norberg  Avould  arrive  even  now,  when  Wilhelm  is 
away  !  Who  can  hinder  you  from  thinking  of  the  one  in  the  amis 
of  the  other  ?  I  wish  you  a  son,  and  good  fortune  with  him  ;  he  will 
have  a  rich  father." 

Tliese  projects  lightened  Mariana's  despondency  only  for  a  very 
.short  time.  She  could  not  bring  her  situation  into  hannony  with  her 
feelings,  with  her  convictions  ;  she  would  fain  havB  forgotten  the 
painful  relations  in  which  she  stood,  and  a  tlinusand  little  circum- 
stances forced  them  back  every  moment  to  her  recollection. 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XIII.  41 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


In  tlie  meantime,  Wilhelm  had  completed  the  small  preliminary 
journey.  His  merchant  being  from  home,  he  delivered  the  letter  of 
introduction  to  the  mistress  of  the  house.  But  neither  did  this  lady 
give  him  much  furtherance  in  his  purposes  ;  she  was  in  a  violent 
passion,  and  her  whole  economy  was  in  confusion. 

He  had  not  waited  long  till  she  disclosed  to  him,  what  in  truth 
could  not  be  kept  a  secret,  that  her  step-daughter  had  run  off  with  a 
player ;  a  person  who  had  parted  lately  from  a  small  strolling  com- 
pany, and  had  stayed  in  the  place,  and  commenced  teaching  French. 
The  father,  distracted  with  grief  and  vexation,  had  run  to  the  Amt 
to  have  the  fugitives  pursued.  She  blamed  her  daughter  bitterly, 
and  vilified  the  lover,  till  she  left  no  tolerable  quality  with  either  : 
she  deplored  at  great  length  the  shame  thus  brought  upon  the  family  ; 
embarrassing  our  hero  not  a  little,  who  here  felt  his  own  private 
scheme  beforehand  judged  and  punished,  in  the  spirit  of  prophecy 
as  it  were,  by  this  frenzied  sibyl.  Still  stronger  and  deeper  was  the 
interest  he  took  in  the  sorrows  of  the  father,  who  now  returned  from 
the  Amt,  and  with  fixed  sorrow,  in  broken  sentences,  gi.ve  an  account 
of  the  errand  to  his  wife  ;  and  strove  to  hide  the  embarrassment  and 
distraction  of  his  mind,  while,  after  looking  at  the  letter,  he  directed 
that  the  horse  it  spoke  of  should  be  given  to  Wilhelm. 

Our  friend  thought  it  best  to  mount  his  steed  immediately,  and  quit 
a  house,  where  in  its  present  state  he  could  not  possibly  be  comfort- 
able ;  but  the  honest  man  would  not  allow  the  son  of  one  to  whom 
he  had  so  many  obligations  to  depart  without  tasting  of  his  hospi- 
tality, without  remaining  at  least  a  night  beneath  his  roof. 

Wilhelm  assisted  at  a  melancholy  supper  ;  wore  out  a  restless 
night ;  and  hastened  to  get  rid  of  these  people,  who,  without  knowing 
it,  had,  by  their  narratives  and  condolences,  been  constantly  wounding 
him  to  the  quick. 

In  a  musing  mood,  he  was  riding  slowly  along,  when  all  at  once  he 
observed  a  number  of  armed  men  coming  through  the  plain.  By 
their  long  loose  coats,  with  enormous  cuffs,  by  their  shapeless  hats, 
clumsy  muskets,  by  their  slouching  gait  and  lax  attitude,  he  recog- 
nized in  these  people  a  detachment  of  provincial  militia.  They  halted 
beneath  an  old  oak  ;  set  down  their  firearms  ;  and  placed  themselves 
at  their  ease  upon  the  sward  to  smoke  a  pipe  of  tobacco.  Wilhelm 
lingered  near  them,  and  entered  into  conversation  with  a  young  man 
who  came  upon  horseback.  The  history  of  the  two  runaways,  which 
he  already  knew  too  well,  was  again  detailed  to  him  ;  and  that  with 
comments,  not  particularly  flattering  either  to  the  young  pair  them- 
selves or  to  the  parents.     He  learned  also  that  the  military  were  coiaie 


43  MEISTER' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

hither  to  take  the  loving  couple  into  custody,  who  had  already  been 
seized  and  detained  in  a  neighboring  village.  After  some  time, 
accordingly,  a  cart  was  seen  advancing  to  the  place,  encircled  with  a 
city-guard  more  ludicrous  than  appalling.  An  amorphous  town- 
clerk  rode  forth,  and  made  his  compliments  to  the  Actuarius  (for  such 
was  the  young  man  whom  Wilhelm  had  been  speaking  to),  on  the 
border  of  their  several  districts,  with  great  conscientiousness  and 
wonderful  grimaces  ;  as  perhaps  the  ghost  and.  conjuror  do,  when 
they  meet,  the  one  within  the  circle  and  the  other  out  of  it,  in  their 
dismal  midnight  operations. 

But  the  chief  attention  of  the  lookers-on  was  directed  to  the  cart  : 
they  could  not  behold  without  compassion  the  poor  misguided  crea- 
tures, who  were  sitting  upon  bundles  of  straw,  looking  tenderly  at 
one  another,  and  scarcely  seeming  to  observe  the  bystanders.  Acci- 
dent had  forced  their  conductors  to  bring  them  from  the  last  village 
in  that  unseemly  style  ;  the  old  chaise,  which  had  previously  trans- 
ported the  lady,  having  there  broken  down.  On  that  occurrence  she 
begged  permission  to  sit  beside  her  friend  ;  whom,  in  the  conviction 
that  his  crime  was  of  a  capital  sort,  the  rustic  bailiffs  had  brought 
along  so  far  in  irons.  These  irons  certainly  contributed  to  give  the 
tender  group  a  more  Interesting  appearance,  particularly  as  the  young 
man  moved  and  bore  himself  with  great  dignity,  while  he  kissed 
more  than  once  the  hands  of  his  fair  companion. 

"We  are  unfortunate,"  she  cried  to  the  bystanders;  "but  not  so 
guilty  as  we  seem.  It  is  thus  that  savage  men  reward  true  love  ;  and 
parents,  who  entirely  neglect  the  happiness  of  their  children,  tear 
them  with  fury  from  the  arms  of  joy,  when  it  has  found  them  after 
many  weary  days." 

The  spectators  were  expressing  their  sympathy  in  various  ways, 
when  the  officers  of  law  having  finished  their  ceremonial,  the  cart 
went  on,  and  Wilhelm,  who  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  fate  of  the 
lovers,  hastened  forward  by  a  footpath  to  get  some  acquaintance  with 
the  Amtmann  before  the  procession  should  arrive.  But  scarcely  had 
he  reached  the  Amthaus,  where  all  was  in  motion,  and  ready  to  re- 
ceive the  fugitives,  when  his  new  friend,  the  Actuarius,  laid  hold  of 
him  ;  and,  giving  him  a  circumstantial  detail  of  the  whole  proceed- 
ings, and  then  launching  out  into  a  comprehensive  eulogy  of  his  own 
horse,  which  he  had  got  last  night  by  barter,  put  a  stop  to  every 
other  sort  of  conversation. 

The  luckless  pair,  in  the  meantime,  had  been  set  down  behind  at 
the  garden,  which  communicated  by  a  little  door  with  the  Amthaus, 
and  thus  brought  in  unobserved.  The  Actuarius,  for  this  mild  and 
handsome  treatment,  accepted  of  a  just  encomium  from  Wilhelm  ; 
though  in  truth  his  sole  object  had  been  to  mortify  the  crowd  collected 
in  front  of  the  Amthaus,  by  denying  them  the  satisfaction  of  looking 
at  a  neighbor  in  his  disgrace. 

The  Amtmann,  who  had  no  particular  taste  for  such  extraordinary 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XHI.  43 

occurrences,  being  wont  on  tliese  occasions  to  commit  frequent  errors, 
and  with  the  best  intentions  to  be  often  paid  with  sour  admonitions 
from  the  higher  powers,  went  with  heavy  steps  into  his  office  room, 
the  Actuarius  with  Wilhelm  and  a  few  respectable  citizens  following 
him. 

The  lady  was  first  produced  ;  she  advanced  without  pertness,  calm 
and  self-possessed.  The  manner  of  her  dress,  the  way  in  which  she 
bore  herself,  showed  that  she  was  a  person  not  without  value  in  her 
own  eyes.  She  accordingly  began,  without  any  question  being  put,  to 
speak  not  unskillfully  about  lier  situation. 

The  Actuarius  bade  her  be  silent,  and  held  his  pen  over  the  folded 
sheet.  The  Amtmann  gathered  up  his  resolution,  looked  at  his  assist- 
ant, cleared  his  throat  by  two  or  three  hems,  and  asked  the  poor  girl 
what  was  her  name,  and  how  old  she  was. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  she,  "  but  it  seems  very  strange  to  me 
that  you  ask  my  name  and  age  ;  seeing  you  know  very  well  what  my 
name  is,  and  that  I  am  just  the  age  of  your  oldest  son.  What  you  do 
want  to  know  of  me,  and  need  to  know,  I  will  tell  freely  without  cir- 
cumlocution : — Since  my  father's  second  marriage,  my  situation  in  his 
house  has  not  been  of  the  most  enviable  sort.  Oftener  than  once  I 
have  had  it  in  my  power  to  make  a  suitable  marriage,  had  not  my 
step-mother,  dreading  the  expense  of  my  portion,  taken  care  to  thwart 
all  such  proposals.  At  length  I  grew  acquainted  with  the  young 
Melina  ;  I  felt  constrained  to  love  him  ;  and  as  both  of  us  foresaw  the 
obstacles  that  stood  in  the  way  of  our  regular  union,  we  determined 
to  go  forth  together,  and  seek  in  the  wide  world  the  happiness  which 
was  denied  us  at  home,  I  took  nothing  with  me  that  was  not  my 
own  ;  we  did  not  run  away  like  thieves  and  robbers,  and  my  lover 
does  not  merit  to  be  hauled  about  in  this  way  with  chains  and  hand- 
cuffs. The  Prince  is  just,  and  will  not  sanction  such  severity.  If  we 
are  liable  to  punishment,  it  is  not  punishment  of  this  kind." 

The  old  Amtmann  hereupon  fell  into  double  and  treble  confusion 
Sounds  of  the  most  gracious  eulogies  were  already  humming  through 
his  brain  ;  and  the  girl's  voluble  speech  had  entirely  confounded  the 
plan  of  his  protocol.  The  mischief  increased,  when  to  repeated 
official  questions  she  refused  giving  any  answer,  but  constantly 
referred  to  what  she  had  already  said. 

"  I  am  no  criminal,"  she  said.  "  They  have  brought  me  hither  on 
bundles  of  straw  to  put  me  to  shame ;  but  there  is  a  higher  court 
that  will  bring  us  back  to  honor." 

The  Actuarius,  in  tl\«  meantime,  had  kept  writing  down  her 
words  :  he  whispered  the  Amtmann,  "just  to  go  on  ;  a  formal  protocol 
might  be  made  out  by  and  by." 

The  senior  then  again  took  heart  ;  and  began,  with  his  heavy 
words,  in  dry  prescribed  formulas,  to  seek  information  about  the 
sweet  secrets  of  love. 

The  red  mounted  into  Wilhelm's  cheeks,  and  those  of  the  pretty 


44  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESSIP. 

criminal  likewise  glowed  with  the  charming  tinge  of  modesty.  She 
was  silent,  she  stammered,  till  at  last  her  embarrassment  itself 
seemed  to  exalt  her  courage. 

"Be  assured,"  she  cried,  "that  I  should  have  strength  enough  to 
confess  the  truth,  though  it  made  against  myself  :  and  shall  I  now 
hesitate  and  stammer,  when  it  does  me  honor  1  Yes,  from  the  moment 
when  I  first  felt  certain  of  his  love  and  faith,  I  looked  upon  him  as 
my  husband  ;  I  freely  gave  him  all  that  love  requires,  that  a  heart 
once  convinced  cannot  long  refuse.  Now  do  with  'me  what  you 
please.  If  I  hesitated  for  a  moment  to  confess,  it  was  owing  to  fear 
alone  lest  the  admission  naight  prove  hurtful  to  my  lover." 

On  hearing  this  confession,  Wilhelm  formed  a  high  opinion  of  the 
young  woman's  feelings  ;  while  her  judges  marked  her  as  an  impu- 
dent strumpet  ;  and  the  townsfolk  present  thanked  God,  that  in  their 
families  no  such  scandal  had  occurred,  or  at  least  been  brought  to 
light. 

Wilhelm  transported  his  Mariana  into  this  conjuncture,  answering 
at  the  bar  ;  he  put  still  finer  words  in  her  mouth,  making  her 
uprightness  yet  more  affecting,  her  confession  still  nobler.  The 
most  violent  desire  to  help  the  two  lovers  took  possession  of  him. 
Nor  did  he  conceal  this  feeling  ;  but  signified  in  private  to  the  wav- 
ering Amtmann,  that  it  were  better  to  end  the  business,  all  being 
clear  as  possible,  and  requiring  no  farther  investigation. 

This  was  so  far  of  service  that  the  young  woman  was  allowed  to 
retire  ;  though,  in  her  stead,  the  lover  was  brought  in,  his  fetters 
having  previously  been  taken  off  him  at  the  door.  This  person 
seemed  a  little  more  concerned  about  his  fate.  His  answers  were 
more  careful  ;  and  if  he  showed  less  heroic  generosity,  he  recom- 
mended himself  by  the  precision  and  distinctness  of  his  expressions. 

When  this  audience  also  was  finished,  and  found  to  agree  in  all 
points  with  the  former,  except  that  from  regard  for  his  mistress, 
Melina  stubbornly  denied  what  had  already  been  confessed  by  herself 
— the  young  woman  was  again  brought  forward  ;  and  a  scene  took 
place  between  the  two,  which  made  the  heart  of  our  friend  entirely 
their  own. 

What  usually  occurs  nowhere  but  in  romances  and  plays,  he  saw 
here  in  a  paltry  court-room  before  his  eyes  ;  the  contest  of  reciprocal 
magnanimity,  the  strength  of  love  in  misfortune. 

"Is  it,  then,  true,"  said  he  internally,  "that  timorous  affection 
which  conceals  itself  from  the  eye  of  the  sun  and  of  men,  not  daring 
to  taste  of  enjoyment  save  in  remote  solitude  and  deep  secrecy,  yet, 
if  torn  rudely  by  some  cruel  chance  into  light,  will  show  itself  more 
courageous,  strong  and  resolute,  than  any  of  our  loud  and  ostenta- 
tious passions?  " 

To  lais  comfort,  the  business  now  came  to  a  conclusion.  The  lovers 
were  detained  in  tolerable  quarters  :  had  it  been  possible,  he  would 
that  very  evening  have  brought  back  the  young  lady  to  her  parents. 


BOOK  L  GSAPTm  Xlt.  4S 

For  lie  firmly  determined  to  act  as  intercessor  in  this  case,  and  to 
forward  a  happy  and  lawful  union  between  the  lovers. 

He  begged  permission  of  the  Amtmann  to  speak  in  private  with 
Melina  ;  a  request  which  was  granted  without  difficulty. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


The  conversation  of  these  new  acquaintances  very  soon  grew  confi- 
dential aud  lively.  When  Wilhelm  told  the  downcast  youth  of  his 
connection  with  the  lady's  parents,  and  offered  to  mediate  in  the 
affair,  showing  at  the  same  time  the  strongest  expectation  of  success, 
a  light  was  shed  across  the  dreary  aud  anxious  mind  of  the  prisoner  ; 
he  felt  himself  already  free,  already  reconciled  with  the  parents  of 
his  bride  ;  and  now  began  to  speak  about  his  future  occupation  and 
support. 

"  On  this  point,"  said  our  friend,  "  you  cannot  long  be  in  diflSculty  ; 
for  you  seem  to  me  directed,  not  more  by  your  circumstances  than  by 
nature,  to  make  your  fortune  in  the  noble  profession  you  have  chosen. 
A  pleasing  figure,  a  sonorous  voice,  a  feeling  heart  !  Could  an  actor 
be  better  furnished  ?  If  I  can  serve  you  with  a  few  introductions,  it 
will  give  me  the  greatest  pleasure." 

"  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart,"  replied  the  other  ;  "  but  I  shall 
hardly  be  able  to  make  use  of  them  ;  for  it  is  my  purpose,  if  possible, 
not  to  return  to  the  stage." 

"  Here  you  are  certainly  to  blame,"  said  Wilhelm,  after  a  pause, 
during  which  he  had  partly  recovered  out  of  his  astonishment  ;  for  it 
had  never  once  entered  his  head,  but  that  the  player,  the  moment  his 
young  wife  and  he  were  out  of  durance,  would  repair  to  some  theater. 
It  seemed  to  him  as  natural  and  as  necessary  as  for  the  frog  to  seek 
pools  of  water.  He  had  not  doubted  of  it  for  a  moment  ;  and  he  now 
heard  the  contrary  with  boundless  surprise. 

"Yes,"  replied  Melina,  "I  have  it  in  view  not  to  reappear  upon 
the  stage  ;  but  rather  to  take  up  some  civil  calling,  be  it  what  it  will, 
so  that  I  can  but  obtain  one. " 

"  That  is  a  strange  resolution,  which  I  cannot  give  my  approbation 
to.  Without  especial  reasons,  it  can  never  be  advisable  to  change 
the  mode  of  life  we  have  begun  with  ;  and,  besides,  I  know  of  no 
condition  that  presents  so  much  allurement,  so  many  charming  pros- 
pects, as  the  condition  of  an  actor." 

"  It  is  easy  to  see  that  you  have  never  been  one,"  said  the  other. 

"Alas,  sir,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "how  seldom  is  any  man  con- 
tented with  the  station  where  he  happens  to  be  placed  !  He  is  ever 
coveting  that  of  his  neighbor,  from  which  the  neighbor  in  his  turn  is 
longing  to  be  free. " 


46  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"Yet  still  there  is  a  difference,"  said  Melina,  "  between  bad  and 
worse.  Experience,  not  impatience,  makes  me  determine  as  you  see. 
Is  there  in  the  world  any  creature  whose  morsel  of  bread  is  attended 
with  such  vexation,  uncertainty  and  toil  1  It  were  almost  as  good  to 
take  the  staff  and  wallet,  and  beg  from  door  to  door.  What  things 
to  be  endured  from  the  envy  of  rivals,  from  the  partiality  of  mana- 
gers, from  the  ever-altering  caprices  of  the  public  !  In  truth,  one 
would  need  to  have  a  hide  like  a  bear's,  that  is  led  about  in  a  chain 
along  with  apes  and  dogs  of  knowledge,  and  cudgeled  into  dancing 
at  the  sound  of  a  bagpipe  before  the  populace  and  children." 

Wilhelm  thought  a  thousand  things,  which  he  would  not  vex  the 
worthy  man  by  uttering.  He  merely,  therefore,  led  the  conversation 
round  them  at  a  distance.  His  friend  explained  himself  the  more 
candidly  and  circumstantially  on  that  account.  "  Is  not  the  manager 
obliged,"  said  he,  "  to  fall  down  at  the  feet  of  eA^ery  little  stadtrath, 
that  he  may  get  permission,  for  a  month  between  the  fairs,  to  cause 
another  groschen  or  two  to  circulate  in  the  place  ?  Ours,  on  the  whole 
a  worthy  man,  I  have  often  pitied  ;  though  at  other  times  he  gave 
me  caiTse  enough  for  discontentment.  A  good  actor  drains  him  by  ex- 
tortion ;  of  the  bad  he  cannot  rid  himself  ;  and,  should  he  try  to  make 
his  income  at  all  equal  to  his  outlay,  the  public  immediately  takes 
umbrage,  the  house  stands  empty  ;  and,  not  to  go  to  wreck  entirely, 
he  must  continue  acting  in  the  midst  of  sorrow  and  vexation.  No, 
no,  sir  !  Since  you  are  so  good  as  to  undertake  to  help  me,  have  the 
kindness,  I  entreat  you,  to  plead  with  the  parents  of  my  bride  ;  let 
them  get  me  a  little  post  of  clerk  or  collector,  and  I  shall  think  my- 
self well  dealt  with."' 

After  exchanging  a  few  words  more,  Wilhelm  went  away  with  the 
promise  to  visit  the  parents  early  in  the  morning,  and  see  what  could 
be  done.  Scarcely  was  he  by  liimself,  when  he  gave  utterance  to  his 
thoughts  in  these  exclamations  :  "  Unhappy  Melina  !  not  in  thy  con- 
dition, but  in  thyself  lies  the  mean  impediment  over  which  thou  canst 
not  gain  the  mastery.  What  mortal  in  the  world,  if  without  inward 
calling  he  take  up  a  trade,  an  art,  or  any  mode  of  life,  will  not  feel  his 
situation  miserable  ?  But  he  who  is  born  with  capacities  for  any  un- 
dertaking, finds  in  executing  this  the  fairest  portion  of  his  being. 
Nothing  upon  earth  without  its  difficulties  !  It  is  the  secret  impulse 
within  ;  it  is  the  love  and  the  delight  we  feel,  that  help  us  to  con- 
quer obstacles,  to  clear  out  new  paths,  and  to  overleap  the  bounds  of 
that  narrow  circle  in  which  others  poorly  toil.  For  thee  the  stage  is 
but  a  few  boards  ;  the  parts  assigned  thee  are  but  what  a  task  is  to  a 
schoolboy.  The  spectators  thou  regardest  as  on  work-days  they  regard 
each  other.  For  thee,  then,  it  may  be  well  to  wisli  thyself  behind  a 
desk,  over  ruled  ledgers,  collecting  tolls,  and  picking  out  reversions. 
Thou  feelest  not  the  co-operating,  co-inspiring  whole,  which  the 
mind  alone  can  invent,  comprehend  and  complete  ;  thou  feelest  not 
that  in  man  there  lives  a  spark  of  purer  fire,  which,  wlien  it  is  not 


BOOK  I.   GHAPTER  XIV.  47 

fed,  when  it  is  not  fanned,  gets  covered  by  the  ashes  of  indiflEerence 
and  daily  wants  ;  yet  not  till  late,  perhaps  never,  can  be  altogether 
quenched.  Thou  feelest  in  thy  soul  no  strength  to  fan  this  spark  into 
a  flame,  no  riches  in  thy  heart  to  feed  it  when  aroused.  Hunger 
drives  thee  on,  inconveniencies  withstand  thee  ;  and  it  is  hidden  from 
thee,  that,  in  every  human  condition,  foes  lie  in  wait  for  us,  invinci- 
ble.except  by  cheerfulness  and  equanimity.  Thou  dost  well  to  wish 
thyself  within  the  limits  of  a  common  station  ;  for  what  station  that 
required  soul  and  resolution  couldst  thou  rightly  fill  !  Give  a  soldier, 
a  statesman,  a  divine  thy  sentiments,  and  as  justly  will  he  fret  him- 
js&.i  about  the  miseries  of  his  condition.  Xay,  have  there  not  been 
/  men  so  totally  forsaken  by  all  feeling  of  existence;  that  they  have 
/  held  the  life  and  nature  of  mortals  as  a  nothing,  a  painful,  short  and 
V  tarnished  gleam  of  being?  Did  the  forms  of  active  men  rise  up  liv- 
ing in  thy  soul ;  were  thy  breast  warmed  by  a  sympathetic  fire  ;  did 
the  vocation  which  proceeds  from  within  diffuse  itself  over  all  thy 
frame  ;  were  the  tones  of  thy  voice,  the  words  of  thy  mouth,  delight- 
ful to  hear  ;  didst  thou  feel  thy  own  being  sufficient  for  thyself, — ^ 
then  wouldst  thou  doubtless  seek  place  and  opportunity  likewise  tg( 
feel  it  in  others." 

Amid  such  words  and  thoughts,  our  friend  undressed  himself,  and 
went  to  bed,  with  feelings  of  the  deepest  satisfaction.  A  whole  ro- 
mance of  what  he  now  hoped  to  do,  instead  of  the  worthless  occupa- 
tions which  should  have  filled  the  approaching  day,  arose  within  his 
mind  ;  pleasant  fantasies  softly  conducted  him  into  the  kingdom  of 
sleep,  and  then  gave  him  up  to  their  sisters,  sweet  dreams,  who  re- 
ceived him  with  open  arms,  and  encircled  his  reposing  head  with  the 
images  of  heaven. 

Early  in  the  morning  he  was  awake  again,  and  thinking  of  the 
business  that  lay  before  him.  He  revisited  the  house  of  the  forsaken 
family,  where  his  presence  caused  no  small  surprise.  He  introduced 
his  proposal  in  the  most  prudent  manner,  and  soon  found  both  more 
and  fewer  difficulties  than  he  had  anticipated.  For  one  thing,  the 
evil  was  already  done ;  and  though  people  of  a  singularly  strict  and 
harsh  temper  are  wont  to  set  themselves  forcibly  against  the  past, 
and  thus  to  increase  the  evil  that  cannot  now  be  remedied  ;  yet,  on 
the  other  hand,  what  is  actually  done  exerts  a  resistless  effect  upon 
most  minds  ;  an  event  which  lately  appeared  impossible  takes  its 
£l.ace,  so  soon  as  it  has  really  occurred,  with  what  occurs  daily.  It 
was  accordingly  soon  settled,  that  Herr  Melina  was  to  wed  the  daugh- 
ter ;  who,  however,  in  return,  because  of  her  misconduct,  was  to 
take  no  marriage  portion  with  her,  and  to  promise  that  she  would 
leave  her  aunt's  legacy,  for  a  few  years  more,  at  an  easy  interest,  in 
her  father's  hands.  But  the  second  point,  touching  a  civil  provision 
for  Melina,  was  attended  with  greater  difficulties.  They  liked  not 
to  have  the  luckless  pair  continually  living  in  their  sight  ;  they 
would  not  have  a  present  object  ever  calling  to  their  minds  the  con- 


48  MEI8TER  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

nection  of  a  mean  vagabond  witli  so  respectable  a  family,  a  family 
which  could  number  even  a  superintendent  among  its  relatives  ;  nay, 
it  was  not  to  be  looked  for,  that  the  government  would  trust  him 
with  a  charge.  Both  parents  were  alike  inflexible  in  this  matter  ; 
and  Wilhelm,  who  pleaded  very  hard,  unwilling  that  a  man  whom 
he  contemned  should  return  to  the  stage,  and  convinced  that  he  de- 
served not  such  a  happiness,  could  not,  with  all  his  rhetoric,  produce 
the  slenderest  impression.  Plad  he  known  the  secret  springs  of  the 
business,  he  would  have  spared  himself  the  labor  of  attempting  to 
persuade.  The  father  would  gladly  have  kept  his  daughter  near 
him,  but  he  hated  the  young  man,  because  his  wife  herself  had  cast 
an  eye  upon  him  ;  while  the  latter  could  not  bear  to  have,  in  her 
step-daughter,  a  happy  rival  constantly  before  her  eyes.  So  Melina, 
with  his  young  wife,  who  already  manifested  no  dislike  to  go  out 
and  see  the  world,  and  be  seen  of  it,  was  obliged,  against  his  will,  to 
set  forth  in  a  few  days,  and  seek  some  place  in  any  acting  corapan j 
where  he  could  find  one. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Happy  season  of  youth  !  Happy  times  of  the  first  wish  of  love  ! 
A  man  is  then  like  a  child,  that  can  for  hours  delight  itself  with  an 
echo,  can  support  alone  the  charges  of  conversation,  and  be  well  con- 
tented with  its  entertainment,  if  the  unseen  interlocutor  will  but  re- 
peat the  concluding  syllables  of  the  words  addressed  to  it. 

So  was  it  with  Wilhelm  in  the  earlier  and  still  more  in  the  later 
period  of  his  passion  for  Mariana  :  he  transferred  the  whole  wealth 
of  his  own  emotions  to  her,  and  looked  upon  himself  as  a  beggar  that 
lived  upon  her  alms  ;  and  as  a  landscape  is  more  delightful,  nay  is 
delightful  only,  when  it  is  enlightened  by  the  sun,  so  likewise  in  his 
eyes  were  all  things  beautified  and  glorified  which  lay  round  her  or 
related  to  her. 

Often  would  he  stand  in  the  theater  behind  the  scenes,  to  which 
he  had  obtained  the  freedom  of  access  from  the  manager.  In  such 
cases,  it  is  true,  the  perspective  magic  was  away  ;  but  the  far  mightier 
sorcery  of  love  then  first  began  to  act.  For  hours  he  could  stand  by 
the  sooty  light-frame,  inhaling  the  vapor  of  tallow  lamps,  looking 
out  at  his  mistress  ;  and  when  she  returned  and  cast  a  kindly  glance 
upon  him,  he  could  feel  himself  lost  in  ecstasy,  and  though  close  upon 
laths  and  bare  spars,  he  seemed  transported  into  paradise.  The 
stuffed  bunches  of  wool  denominated  lambs,  the  waterfalls  of  tin,  the 
paper  roses  and  the  one-sided  huts  of  straw,  awoke  in  him  fair  poetic 
visions  of  an  old  pastoral  world.  Nay,  the  very  dancing-girls,  ugly 
as  they  were  when  seen  at  hand,  did  not  always  inspire  him  with  dis- 
gust ;  they  trod  the  same  floor  witli  Mariana,     So  true  is  it,  that  love, 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XV.  49 

which  alone  can  give  their  full  charm  to  rose-bowers,  myrtle-groves 
and  moonshine,  can  also  communicate,  even  to  shavings  of  wood  and 
paper-clippings,  the  aspect  of  animated  nature.  It  is  so  strong  a 
spice,  that  tasteless,  or  even  nauseous  soups  are  by  it  rendered  pal- 
atable. 

So  potent  a  spice  was  certainly  required  to  render  tolerable,  nay  at 
last  agreeable,  the  state  in  which  he  usually  found  her  chamber,  not 
to  say  herself. 

.  Brought  up  in  a  substantial  burgher's  house,  cleanliness  and  order 
were  the  element  in  which  he  breathed  ;  and  inberiting  as  he  did  a 
portion  of  his  father's  taste  for  finery,  it  had  always  been  his  care,  iu 
boyhood,  to  furbish  up  his  chamber,  which  he  regarded  as  his  little 
kingdom,  in  the  stateliest  fashion.  His  bed-curtains  were  drawn 
together  in  large  massy  folds,  aud  fastened  with  tassels,  as  they  are 
usually  seen  in  thrones  :  he  had  got  himself  a  carpet  for  the  middle 
of  his  chamber,  aud  a  finer  one  for  his  table  ;  his  books  aud  appa- 
ratus he  had,  almost  instinctively,  arranged  in  such  a  manner,  that  a 
Dutch  painter  might  have  imitated  them  for  groups  in  his  still -life 
scenes.  He  had  a  white  cap,  which  he  wore  straight  up  like  a  tur- 
ban ;  and  the  sleeves  of  his  nightgown  he  had  caused  to  be  cut  short, 
in  the  mode  of  the  Orientals.  By  way  of  reason  for  this,  he  pretended 
that  long  wide  sleeves  encumbered  him  in  writing.  AVhen,  at  night, 
the  boy  was  quite  aione,  and  no  longer  dreaded  any  interruption,  he 
usually  wore  a  silk  sash  tied  round  his  body,  and  often,  it  is  said,  he 
would  fix  in  his  girdle  a  sword,  which  he  had  appropriated  from  an 
old  armory,  and  thus  repeat  aud  declaim  his  tragic  parts  ;  nay,  in  the 
same  trim  he  would  kneel  down  and  say  his  evening  prayer. 

In  those  times,  how  happy  did  he  think  the  players,  whom  he  saw 
possessed  of  so  many  splendid  garments,  trappings  and  arms  ;  and  in 
the  constant  practice  of  a  lofty  demeanor,  the  spirit  of  which  seemed 
to  hold  up  a  mirror  of  whatever,  in  the  opinions,  relations  and  pas- 
sions of  men,  was  stateliest  and  most  magnificent.  Of  a  piece  with 
this,  thought  Wilhe1m,is  also  the  player's  domestic  life  ;  a  series  of 
dignified  transactions  and  employments,  whereof  their  appearance  on 
the  stage  is  but  the  outmost  portion  ;  like  as  a  mass  of  silver,  long 
simmering  about  in  the  purifying  furnace,  at  length  gleams  with  a 
bright  and  beautiful  tinge  in  the  eye  of  the  refiner,  and  shows  him, 
at  the  same  time,  that  the  metal  now  is  cleansed  of  all  foreign  mix- 
ture. 

Great  accordingly,  was  his  surprise  at  first,  when  he  found  himself 
beside  his  mistress,  and  looked  down,  through  the  cloud  that  en- 
vironed him,  on  tables,  stools  and  fioor.  The  wrecks  of  a  transient, 
light  and  false  decoration  lay,  like  the  glittering  coat  of  a  skinned 
fish,  dispersed  in  wild  disorder.  The  implements  of  personal  clean- 
liness, combs,  soap,  towels,  with  the  traces  of  their  use,  were  not  con- 
cealed. Music,  portions  of  plays,  pairs  of  shoes,  washes  and  Italian 
flowers,  pincushions,  hair-skewers,  rouge-pots  and  ribbons,  books  and 


50  MEISTEB'8  APPRENTIVE8H1P. 

straw-hats  ;  no  article  despised  the  neighborhood  of  another  ;  all  were 
united  by  a  common  element,  powder  and  dust.  Yet  as  Wilhelm 
scarcely  noticed  in  her  presence  aught  except  herself  ;  nay,  as  all  that 
had  belonged  to  her,  that  she  had  touched,  was  dear  to  him,  he  came 
at  last  to  feel,  in  this  chaotic  housekeeping,  a  charm  which  the  proud 
pomp  of  his  own  habitation  never  had  communicated.  When,  on 
this  hand,  he  lifted  aside  her  bodice,  to  get  at  the  harpsichord  ;  on 
that,  threw  her  gown  upon  the  bed,  that  he  might  find  a  seat  ;  when 
she  herself,  with  careless  freedom,  did  not  seek  to  hide  from  hiiu 
many  a  natural  office,  which,  out  of  respect  for  the  presence  of  a 
second  person,  is  usually  concealed  ;  he  felt  as  if  by  all  this  he  was 
coming  nearer  to  her  every  moment,  as  if  the  communion  betwixt 
them  was  fastening  by  invisible  ties. 

It  was  not  so  easy  to  reconcile  with  his  previous  ideas  the  behavior 
of  the  other  players,  whom,  on  his  first  \'isits,  he  often  met  with  in 
her  house.  Ever  busied  in  being  idle,  they  seemed  to  think  least  of 
all  on  their  employment  and  object ;  the  poetic  worth  of  a  piece  they 
were  never  heard  to  speak  of,  or  to  judge  of,  right  or  wrong  ;  their 
continual  question  was  simply  :  How  much  will  it  bring?  Is  it  a 
stock- piece?  How  long  will  it  run?  How  often  think  you  it  may 
be  played  ?  and  other  inquiries  and  observations  of  the  same  descrip- 
tion. Then  commonly  they  broke  out  against  the  manager,  that  he 
was  stinted  wth  his  salaries,  and  especially  unjust  to  this  one  or  that ; 
then  against  the  public,  how  seldom  it  recompensed  the  right  man 
with  its  approval,  how  the  German  theater  was  daily  improving,  how 
the  player  was  ever  growing  more  honored,  and  never  could  be  hon- 
ored enough.  Then  they  would  descant  largely  about  wine  gardens 
and  coffee-houses  ;  how  much  debt  one  of  their  comrades  had  con.- 
tracted,  and  must  suffer  a  deduction  from  his  wages  on  account  of  ; 
about  the  disproportion  of  their  weekly  salaries  ;  about  the  cabals  of 
some  rival  company  :  on  which  occasion  they  would  pass  again  to  the 
great  and  merited  attention  which  the  public  now  bestowed  upon 
them  ;  not  forgetting  the  importance  of  the  theater  to  the  improve- 
ment of  the  nation  and  the  world. 

All  this,  which  had  already  given  Wilhelm  many  a  restless  hour, 
came  again  into  his  memory,  as  he  walked  his  horse  slowly  home- 
wards, and  contemplated  the  various  occurrences  in  which  he  had  so 
lately  been  engaged.  The  commotion  produced  by  a  girl's  elopement, 
not  only  in  a  decent  family,  but  in  a  whole  town,  he  had  seen  with  his 
own  eyes  ;  the  scenes  upon  the  highway  and  in  the  Amthaus,  the 
views  entertained  by  Melina,  and  whatever  else  he  had  witnessed, 
again  arose  before  him,  and  brought  his  keen  forecasting  mind  into  a 
sort  of  anxious  disquietude  ;  which  no  longer  to  endure,  he  struck  the 
spurs  into  his  horse,  and  hastened  towards  home. 

By  this  expedient,  however,  he  but  ran  to  meet  new  vexations. 
Werner,  his  friend  and  future  brother-in-law,  was  waiting  for  him,  to 
begin  a  serious,  important,  unexpected  conversation. 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XV.  51 

Werner  was  one  of  those  tried  sedate  persons,  with  fixed  princi])les 
and  habits,  whom  we  usually  denominate  cold  characters,  because  on 
emergencies  they  do  not  burst  forth  quickly  or  very  visibly.  Accord- 
ingly, his  intercourse  with  Wilhelm  was  a  perpetual  contest ;  which, 
however,  only  served  to  knit  their  mutual  affection  the  more  firmly  ; 
for,  notwithstanding  their  very  opposite  modes  of  thinking,  each  found 
his  account  in  communicating  with  the  other.  Werner  was  very  well 
contented  with  himself,  that  he  could  now  and  then  lay  a  bridle  on 
the  exalted  but  commonly  extravagant  spirit  of  his  friend  ;  and  Wil- 
helm  often  felt  a  glorious  triumph,  when  the  staid  and  thinking  Wer- 
ner could  be  hurried  on  with  him  in  warm  ebullience.  Thus  each  ex- 
ercised himself  upon  the  other  ;  they  had  been  accustomed  to  see  each 
other  daily  ;  and  you  Avould  have  said,  their  eagerness  to  meet  and 
talk  together  had  even  been  augmented  by  the  inability  of  each  to 
understand  the  other.  At  bottom,  liowever,  being  both  good-hearted 
men,  they  were  both  traveling  together  towards  one  goal  ;  and  they 
could  never  understand  liow  it  was  that  neither  of  the  two  could 
bring  the  other  over  to  his  own  persuasion. 

For  some  time,  Werner  had  observed  that  Wilhelm's  visits  had  been 
rarer  ;  that  in  liis  favorite  discussions  he  was  brief  and  absent-minded; 
that  he  no  longer  abandoned  himself  to  the  vivid  depicting  of  singular 
conceptions  ;  tokens  by  which,  in  truth,  a  mind  getting  rest  and  con- 
tentment in  the  presence  of  a  friend,  is  most  clearly  indicated.  The 
considerate  and  punctual  Werner  first  sought  for  the  root  of  the  evil 
in  his  own  conduct  ;  till  some  rumors  of  the  neighborhood  set  him 
on  the  proper  trace,  and  some  unguarded  proceedings  on  the  part  of 
Wilhelm  brovight  him  nearer  to  the  certainty.  He  began  his  inves- 
tigation ;  and  ere  long  discovered,  that  for  some  time  Wilhelm  had 
been  openly  visiting  an  actress,  had  often  spoken  with  her  at  the 
theater,  and  accompanied  her  home.  On  discovering  the  nightly 
visits  of  his  friend,  Werner's  anxiety  increased  to  a  painful  extent  ; 
for  he  heard  that  Mariana  was  a  most  seductive  girl,  who  probably 
was  draining  the  youth  of  his  money,  while,  at  the  same  time,  she 
herself  was  supported  by  another  and  a  very  worthless  lover. 

Having  pushed  his  suspicions  as  near  certainty  as  possible,  he  had 
resolved  to  make  a  sharp  attack  on  Wilhelm  :  he  was  now  in  full 
readiness  with  all  liis  preparations,  when  his  friend  returned,  discon- 
tented and  unsettled,  from  his  journey. 

That  veryjevening,  Werner  laid  the  whole  of  what  he  knew  before 
him,  first  calmly,  then  with  the  emphatic  earnestness  of  a  well-mean- 
ing friendship.  He  left  no  point  of  the  subject  undiscussed  ;  and 
made  Wilhelm  taste  abundance  of  those  bitter  things,  which  men  at 
ea,se  are  accustomed,  with  virtuous  spite,  to  dispense  so  liberally  to 
men  in  love.  Yet,  as  might  have  been  expected,  he  accomplished 
little.  Wilhelm  answered  with  interior  commotion,  though  with 
great  confidence  :  "You  know  not  the  girl  I  Appearances,  perhaps, 
are  not  to  her  advantage  ;  but  I  am  certain  of  her  faithfulness  and 
virtue,  as  of  my  love." 


62  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Werner  maintained  liis  accusations,  and  oflfered  to  bring  proofs  and 
witnesses.  Wilhelm  waved  these  offers,  and  parted  witli  his  friend 
out  of  humor  and  unhinged  ;  like  a  man  in  whose  jaw  some  unskillful 
dentist  has  been  seizing  a  diseased  yet  fast-rooted  tooth,  and  tugging 
at  it  harshly  to  no  purpose. 

It  exceedingly  dissatisfied  Wilhelm  to  see  the  fair  image  of  Mariana 
overclouded  and  almost  deformed  in  his  soul,  first  by  the  capricious 
fancies  of  his  journey,  and  then  by  the  unfriendliness  of  Werner. 
He  adopted  the  surest  means  of  restoring  it  to  complete  brilliancy  and 
beauty,  by  setting  out  at  night,  and  hastening  to  his  wonted  destina- 
tion. She  received  him  with  extreme  joy  :  on  entering  the  town,  he 
had  ridden  past  her  window  ;  she  had  been  expecting  his  company  ; 
and  it  is  easy  to  conceive  that  all  scruples  were  soon  driven  from  his 
heart.  Nay,  her  tenderness  again  o])ened  up  the  Avhole  stores  of  his 
confidence  ;  and  he  told  her  how  deeply  the  public,  how  deeply  his 
friend,  had  sinned  against  her.  , 

Much  lively  talking  led  them  at  length  to  speak  about  the  earliest 
period  of  their  acquaintance  ;  the  recollection  of  which  forms  always 
one  of  the  most  delightful  topics  between  two  lovers.  The  first  steps 
that  introduce  us  to  the  enchanted  garden  of  love  are  so  full  of  pleas- 
ure, the  first  prospects  so  charming,  that  every  one  is  willing  to  recall 
them  to  his  memory.  Each  party  seeks  a  preference  above  the  other  • 
each  has  loved  sooner,  more  devotedly  ;  and  each,  in  this  contest, 
would  rather  be  conquered  than  conquer. 

Wilhelm  repeated  to  his  mistress,  what  he  had  so  often  told  her 
before,  how  she  soon  abstracted  his  attention  from  the  play,  and  fixed 
it  on  herself  ;  how  her  form,  her  acting,  her  voice  inspired  him  ;  how 
at  last  he  went  only  on  the  nights  when  site  was  to  appear  ;  how,  in 
fine,  having  ventured  behind  the  scenes,  he  had  often  stood  by  her 
unheeded  ;  and  he  spoke  with  rapture  of  the  happy  evening  when  he 
found  an  opportunity  to  do  her  some  civility,  and  lead  her  into  con- 
versation. 

Mariana,  on  the  other  hand,  would  not  allow  that  she  had  failed  so 
long  to  notice  him  ;  she  declared  that  she  had  seen  him  in  the  public 
walk,  and  for  proof  she  described  the  clothes  which  he  wore  on  that 
occasion  ;  she  affirmed  that  even  then  he  pleased  her  before  all  others, 
and  made  her  long  for  his  acqtiaintance. 

How  gladly  did  Wilhelm  credit  all  this  1  How  gladly  did  he  catch 
at  the  persuasion,  that  when  he  used  to  approach  her,  she  had  felt 
herself  drawn  towards  him  by  some  resistless  influence  ;  that  she  had 
gone  with  him  between  the  side-scenes,  on  purpose  to  see  him  more 
closely,  and  get  acquainted  with  him  ;  and  that,  in  fine,  when  his 
backwardness  and  modesty  were  not  to  be  conquered,  she  had  herself 
afforded  him  an  opportunity,  and,  as  it  were,  compelled  him  to  hand 
her  a  glass  of  lemonade  ! 

In  this  affectionate  contest,  which  they  pursued  through  all  the 
little  circumstances  of  their  brief  romance,  the  hours  passed  rapidly 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XVI.  53 

away  ;  and  Wilhelm  left  liis  mistress,  with  his  heart  at  peace,  and 
firmly  determined  on  proceeding  forthwith  to  the  execution  of  his 
project. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


The  necessary  preparations  for  his  journey  his  father  and  mother 
had  attended  to  ;  some  little  matters,  that  were  yet  wanting  to  his 
equipage,  delayed  his  departure  for  a  few  days.  Wilhelm  took 
advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  write  to  Mariana,  meaning  thus  to 
bring  to  a  decision  the  proposal,  about  which  she  had  hitherto 
avoided  speaking  with  him.     The  letter  was  as  follows  : 

"  Under  the  kind  veil  of  night,  which  has  often  overshadowed  us 
together,  I  sit  and  think,  and  write  to  thee  ;  all  that  I  meditate  and 
do  is  solely  on  thy  account.  O  Mariana  !  with  me,  the  happiest  of 
men,  it  is  as  with  a  bridegroom  who  stands  in  the  festive  chamber, 
dreaming  of  the  new  universe  that  is  to  be  unfolded  to  him,  and  by 
means  of  him,  and,  while  the  holy  ceremonies  are  proceeding,  trans- 
ports himself  in  longing  thought  before  the  mysterious  curtains, 
from  which  the  loveliness  of  love  whispers  out  to  him. 

"  I  have  constrained  myself  not  to  see  thee  for  a  few  days ;  the 
sacrifice  was  easy,  when  united  with  the  hope  of  such  a  recompense, 
of  being  always  with  thee,  of  remaining  ever  thine  !  Need  I  repeat 
what  I  desire  ?  I  must ;  for  it  seems  as  if  yet  thou  hadst  never 
understood  me. 

"  How  often,  in  the  low  tones  of  true  love,  which,  though  wishing 
to  gain  all,  dares  speak  but  little,  have  I  sought  in  thy  heart  for  the 
desire  of  a  perpetual  union.  Thou  hast  understood  me,  doubtless  ; 
for  in  thy  own  heart  the  same  wish  must  have  arisen  ;  thou  didst 
comprehend  me,  in  that  kiss,  in  the  intoxicating  peace  of  that  happy 
evening.  Thy  silence  testified  to  me  thy  modest  honor ;  and  how 
did  it  increase  my  love  !  Another  woman  would  have  had  recourse 
to  artifice,  that  she  might  ripen  by  superfluous  sunshine  the  pur- 
pose of  her  lover's  heart,  might  elicit  a  proposal,  and  secure  a  firm 
promise.  Mariana,  on  the  contrary,  drew  back  ;  she  repelled  the 
half-opened  confidence  of  him  she  loved,  and  sought  to  conceal  her 
approving  feelings  by  apparent  indifference.  But  I  have  imderstood 
thee  !  What  a  miserable  creature  must  I  be,  if  I  did  not  by  these 
tokens  recognize  the  pure  and  generous  love  that  cares  not  for  itself, 
but  for  its  object  !  Confide  in  me,  and  fear  nothing.  We  belong  to 
one  another  ;  and  neither  of  us  leaves  aught  or  forsakes  aught,  if  we 
live  for  one  another. 

"  Take  it,  then,  this  hand  !  Solemnly  I  offer  this  unnecessary 
pledge  !  All  the  joys  of  love  we  have  already  felt  ;  but  there  is  a 
new  blessedness  in  the  firm  thought  of  duration.     Ask   not  how ; 


54  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICE8SIP. 

care  not.  Fate  takes  care  of  love,  and  tlae  more  certainly  as  love  is 
easy  to  provide  for. 

"  My  heart  has  long  ago  forsaken  my  paternal  home  ;  it  is  with 
thee,  as  my  spirit  hovers  on  the  stage.  0  my  darling  !  to  what  other 
man  has  it  been  given  to  unite  all  his  wishes,  as  it  is  to  me  ?  No 
sleep  falls  on  my  eyes  ;  like  the  brightness  of  a  perpetual  dawn,  thy 
love  and  thy  happiness  still  glow  around  me. 

"  Scarcely  can  I  hold  myself  from  springing  up,  from  rushing 
forth  to  thee,  and  forcing  thy  consent,  and,  with  the  first  light  of 
to-morrow,  pressing  forward  into  the  world  for  the  mark  I  aim  at. 
But  no  !  I  will  restrain  myself  ;  I  will  not  act  like  a  thoughtless 
fool :  will  do  nothing  rashly  ;  my  plan  is  laid,  and  I  will  execute  it 
calmly. 

"  I  am  acquainted  with  the  manager  Serlo  ;  my  journey  leads  me 
directly  to  the  place  where  he  is.  For  above  a  year  he  has  frequently 
been  wishing  that  his  people  had  a  touch  of  my  vivacity,  and  my 
delight  in  theatrical  affairs  ;  I  shall  doubtless  be  very  kindly  received. 
Into  your  company  I  cannot  enter,  for  more  than  one  reason.  Serlo's 
theater,  moreover,  is  at  such  a  distance  from  this,  that  I  may  there 
begin  my  undertaking  without  any  apprehension  of  discovery.  With 
him  I  sliall  thus  at  once  find  a  tolerable  maintenance  ;  I  shall  look 
about  me  in  the  public,  get  acquainted  with  the  company,  and  then 
come  back  for  thee. 

"  Mariana,  thou  seest  what  I  can  force  myself  to  do,  that  I  may 
certainly  obtain  tliee.  For  such  a  period  not  to  see  thee  ;  for  such  a 
period  to  know  thee  in  the  wide  world  !  I  dare  not  view  it  closely. 
But  yet  if  I  recall  to  memory  thy  love,  which  assures  me  of  all ;  if 
thou  shalt  not  disdain  my  prayer,  aud  give  me,  ere  we  part.,  thy  hand 
before  the  priest  ;  I  may  then  depart  in  peace.  It  is  but  a  fonn  be- 
tween tis,  yet  a  form  so  touching  ;  the  blessing  of  heaven  to  the 
blessing  of  the  earth.  Close  by  thy  house,  in  the  Ritterschaft  chapel, 
the  ceremony  will  be  soon  and  secretly  performed. " 

"  For  the  beginning  I  have  gold  enough  ;  we  will  share  it  between 
us  ;  it  will  suffice  for  both  ;  and  before  that  is  finished.  Heaven  wiH 
send  us  more. 

"  No,  my  darling,  I  am  not  downcast  about  the  issue.  What  is 
begun  with  so  much  cheerfulness  must  reach  a  happy  end.  I  have 
never  doubted  that  a  man  may  force  his  way  through  the  world  if  he 
really  is  in  earnest  about  it ;  and  I  feel  strength  enough  within  me  to 
provide  a  liberal  support  for  two,  and  many  more.  The  world,  we 
are  often  told,  is  unthankful  ;  I  have  never  yet  discovered  that  it  was 
unthankful,  if  one  knew  how,  in  the  proper  way,  to  do  it  service. 
My  whole  soul  burns  at  the  idea  that  /  shall  at  length  step  forth  and 
speak  to  the  liearts  of  men  something  they  have  long  been  yearning 
to  hear.  How  many  thousand  times  has  a  feeling  of  disgust  passed 
through  me,  alive  as  I  am  to  the  nobleness  of  the  stage,  when  I  have 
seen  the  poorest  creatures  fancying  they  could  speak  a  word  of  power 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XV H.  55 

to  the  hearts  of  the  people  !  The  tone  of  a  man's  voice  singing  treble 
sounds  far  pleasanter  and.  purer  to  my  ear  :  it  is  incredible  how  these 
blockheads,  in  their  coarse  ineptitude,  deform  things  beautiful  and 
venerable. 

"  The  theater  has  often  been  at  variance  with  the  pulpit  ;  they 
ought  not,  I  think,  to  quarrel.  How  much  is  it  to  be  wished  that  in 
both  the  celebration  of  nature  and  of  God  were  intrusted  to  none  but 
men  of  noble  minds  !  These  are  no  dreams,  my  darling  !  As  I  have 
felt  in  thy  heart  that  thou  couldst  love,  I  seize  the  dazzling  thought, 
and  say — no,  I  will  not  say,  but  I  will  hope  and  trust — that  we  two 
shall  yet  appear  to  men  as  a  pair  of  chosen  spirits,  to  unlock  their 
hearts,  to  touch  the  recesses  of  their  nature,  and  prepare  for  them 
celestial  joys,  as  surely  as  the  joys  I  have  tasted  with  thee  deserved 
to  be  named  celestial,  since  they  drew  us  from  ourselves,  and  exalted 
us  above  ourselves. 

' '  I  cannot  end.  I  have  already  said  too  much ;  and  know  not 
whether  I  have  yet  said  all,  all  that  concerns  thy  interests  ;  for  to  ex- 
press the  agitations  of  the  vortex  that  whirls  round  within  myself  is 
beyond  the  power  of  words. 

"  Yet  take  this  sheet,  my  love  !  I  have  again  read  it  over  ;  I  ob- 
serve it  ought  to  have  begun  more  cautiously  ;  but  it  contains  in  it 
all  that  thou  hast  need  to  know  ;  enough  to  prepare  thee  for  the  hour 
when  I  shall  return  with  the  lightness  of  love  to  thy  bosom.  I  seem 
to  myself  like  a  prisoner  that  is  secretly  filing  his  irons  asunder.  I 
bid  good-night  to  my  soundly-sleeping  parents.  Farewell,  my  be- 
loved, farewell !  For  this  time  I  conclude ;  my  eyelids  have  more 
than  once  dropped  together  ;  it  is  now  deep  in  the  night." 


CHAPTER  XVIL 


It  seemed  as  if  the  day  would  never  end,  while  Wilhelm,  Avith  the 
xctter  beautifully  folded  in  his  pocket,  longed  to  meet  with  Mariana. 
The  darkness  had  scarcely  come  on  when,  contrary  to  custom,  he 
glided  forth  to  her  house.  His  plan  was  to  announce  himself  for  the 
night ;  then  to  quit  his  mistress  for  a  short  time,  leaving  the  letter 
with  her  ere  he  v/ent  away,  and,  returning  at  a  late  hour,  to  obtain 
her  reply,  her  consent,  or  to  force  it  from  her  by  the  power  of  his 
caresses.  He  flew  into  her  arms,  and  pressed  her  in  rapture  to  his 
bosom.  The  vehemence  of  his  emotions  prevented  him  at  first  from 
noticing  that,  on  this  occasion,  she  did  not  receive  him  with  her 
wonted  heartiness  ;  yet  she  could  not  long  conceal  her  painful  situa- 
tion, but  imputed  it  to  slight  indisposition.  She  complained  of  a 
headache,  and  would  not  by  any  means  consent  to  his  proposal  of 
coming  back  that  night.     Suspecting  nothing  wrong,  he  ceased  to 


56  MEISTEB' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

urge  her  ;  but  felt  that  this  was  not  the  moment  for  delivering  his 
letter.  He  retained  it  therefore  ;  and  as  several  of  her  movements 
and  observations  courteously  compelled  him  to  take  his  leave,  in  the 
tumult  of  insatiable  love  he  snatched  up  one  of  her  neckerchiefs, 
squeezed  it  into  his  pocket,  and  forced  himself  away  from  her  lips 
and  her  door.  He  returned  home,  but  could  not  rest  there  ;  he  again 
dressed  himself,  and  went  out  into  the  open  air. 

After  walking  up  and  down  several  streets,  he  was  accosted  by  a 
stranger  inquiring  for  a  certain  inn.  Wilhelm  offered  to  conduct  him 
to  the  house  In  the  way,  his  new  acquaintance  asked  about  the 
names  of  the  streets,  the  owners  of  various  extensive  edifices,  then 
about  some  police  regulations  of  the  town  ;  so  that  by  the  time  they 
reached  the  door  of  the  inn,  they  had  fallen  into  quite  an  interesting 
conversation.  The  stranger  compelled  his  guide  to  enter,  and  drink  a 
glass  of  punch  with  him.  Ere  long  he  had  told  his  name  and  place 
of  abode,  as  well  as  the  business  that  had  brought  him  hither  ;  and 
he  seemed  to  expect  a  like  confidence  from  Wilhelm.  Our  friend, 
without  any  hesitation,  mentioned  his  name  and  the  place  where  he 
lived. 

' '  Are  not  you  a  grandson  of  the  old  Meister,  who  possessed  that 
beautiful  collection  of  pictures  and  statues  ?  "  inquired  the  stranger. 

"  Yes,  I  am.  I  was  ten  years  old  when  my  grandfather  died,  and 
it  grieved  me  very  much  to  see  those  fine  things  sold." 

"  Your  father  got  a  fine  sum  of  money  for  them." 

"  You  know  of  it,  tiien  ?  " 

"  0  yes  ;  I  saw  that  treasure  ere  it  left  your  house.  Your  grand- 
father was  not  merely  a  collector,  he  hatl  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
art.  In  his  younger  happy  years  he  had  been  in  Italy  ;  and  had 
brought  back  with  him  such  treasures  as  could  not  now  be  got  for  any 
price.  He  possessed  some  exquisite  pictures  by  the  best  masters. 
When  you  looked  through  his  drawings,  you  would  scarcely  have 
believed  your  eyes.  Among  his  marbles  were  some  invaluable  frag- 
ments :  his  series  of  bronzes  was  instructive  and  well  chosen  ;  he  had 
also  collected  medals,  in  considerable  quantity,  relating  to  history  and 
art  ;  his  few  gems  deserved  the  greatest  praise.  In  addition  to  all 
which,  the  whole  was  tastefully  arranged,  although  the  rooms  and 
hall  of  the  old  house  had  not  been  symmetrically  built." 

"  You  may  conceive,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  what  we  young  ones  lost, 
when  all  these  articles  were  taken  down  and  sent  away.  It  was  the 
first  mournful  period  of  my  life.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  empty  the 
chambers  looked,  as  we  saw  those  objects  vanishing  one  by  one,  which 
had  amused  us  from  our  earliest  years,  and  which  we  considered 
equally  unalterable  with  the  house  or  the  town  itself." 

"  If  I  mistake  not,  your  father  put  the  capital  produced  by  the  sale 
into  some  neighbor's  stock,  with  whom  he  commenced  a  sort  of  part- 
nership in  trade." 

"  Quite  right ;  and  their  joint  speculations  have  prospered  in  their 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XVII.  ^1 

hands.  Within  the  last  twelve  years,  they  have  greatly  increased, 
their  fortunes,  and  are  now  the  more  vehemeiitly_bent_on  gaining.' 
Old  Werner  also  has  a  son,  who  suits  tTiaTsort  of  occupation  much 
better  than  I." 

"I  am  sorry  the  place  should  have  lost  such  an  ornament  to  it  as 
your  grandfather's  cabinet  was.  I  saw  it  but  a  short  time  prior  to 
the  sale  :  and  I  may  say,  I  was  myself  the  cause  of  its  being  then  dis- 
posed of.  A  rich  noblemen,  a  great  amateur,  but  one  who,  in  such 
important  transactions,  does  not  trust  to  his  own  solitary  judgment, 
liad  sent  me  hither,  and  requested  my  advice.  For  six  days  1  exam- 
ined the  collection  ;  on  the  seventh,  I  advised  my  friend  to  pay  down 
the  required  sum  without  delay.  You  were  then  a  lively  boy,  often 
running  about  me  ;  you  explained  to  me  the  subjects  of  the  pictures  ; 
and  in  general,  I  recollect,  could  give  a  very  good  account  of  the  whole 
cabinet." 

"  I  remember  such  a  person  ;  but  I  should  not  have  recognized  him 
in  you." 

"  It  is  a  good  while  ago,  and  we  all  change  more  or  less.  You  had, 
if  I  mistake  not,  a  favorite  piece  among  them,  to  which  you  were  ever 
calling  my  attention." 

"O  yes  ;  it  represented  the  history  of  that  king's  son  dying  of  a 
secret  love  for  his  father's  bride." 

"  It  was  not,  certainly,  the  best  picture  ;  badly  grouped,  of  no 
superiority  in  coloring,  and  executed  altogether  with  great  manner- 
ism." 

"  This  I  did  not  understand,  and  do  not  yet ;  it  is  the  subject  that 
charms  me  in  a  picture,  not  the  art. " 

"  Your  grandfather  seemed  to  have  thought  otherwise.  The  greater 
part  of  his  collection  consisted  of  excellent  pieces  ;  in  which,  represent 
what  they  might,  one  constantly  admired  the  talent  of  the  master. 
This  picture  of  yours  had  accordingly  been  hung  in  the  outermost 
room,  a  proof  that  he  valued  it  slightly." 

"  It  was  in  that  room  where  we  young  ones  used  to  play,  and  where 
the  piece  you  mention  made  on  me  a  deep  impression  ;  which  not 
even  your  criticism,  greatly  as  I  honor  it,  could  obliterate,  if  we  stood 
before  the  picture  at  this  moment.  What  a  melancholy  object  is  a 
youth  that  must  shut  up  within  himself  the  sweet  impulse,  the  fairest 
inheritance  which  nature  has  given  us,  and  conceal  in  his  osvn  bosom 
the  fire  which  should  warm  and  animate  himself  and  others,  so  that 
his  vitals  are  wasted  away  by  unutterable  pains  !  I  feel  a  pity  for 
the  ill-fated  man  that  would  consecrate  himself  to  another,  when  the 
heart  of  that  other  has  ah'eady  found  a  worthy  object  of  true  and 
pure  affection." 

"Such  feelings  are,  however,  very  foreign  to  the  principles  by 
which  a  lover  of  art  examines  the  works  of  great  painters  ;  and  most 
probably  you,  too,  had  the  cabinet  continued  in  your  family,  would 
by  and  by  have  acquired  a  relish  for  the  works  themselves  ;  and  have 


V 


58  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

learned  to  see  in  the  performances  of  art  something  more  than  your- 
self and  your  individual  inclinations." 

"^n  truth,  the  sale  of  that  cabinet  grieved  me  very  much  at  the 
time  ;  and  often  since  I  have  thought  of  it  with  regret  ;  but,  when  I 
consider  that  it  was  a  necessary  means  of  awakening  a  taste  in  me, 
of  developing  a  talent,  which  will  operate  far  more  powerfully  on 
my  history  than  ever  those  lifeless  pictures  could  have  done,  I  easily 
content  myself,  and  honor  destiny,  which  knows  how  to  bring  about 
what  is  best  for  me,  and  what  is  best  for  every  one." 

"It  gives  me  pain  to  hear   this  word  destiny  in  the  mouth  of  a 

young  person,  just  at  the  age  when  men  are  commonly  accustomed 

to  ascribe  their  own  violent  inclinations  to  the  will  of  higher  natures." 

"Do  you,  then,  believe  in  no  destiny?    No  power  that  rules  over 

us,  and  directs  all  for  our  ultimate  advantage  ?  " 

' '  The  question  is  not  now  of  my  belief  ;  nor  is  this  the  place  to' 
explain  how  I  may  have  attempted  to  form  for  myself  some  not/ 
impossible  conception  of  things  which  are  incomprehensible  to  all  of 
lis:  the  question  here  is  :  What  mode  of  viewing  them  willjjrofit  us 
the  most?  The  fabric  of  oiir  life  is  formed  of  necessity  and  chance  ; 
the  reason  of  man  takes  its  station  between  them,  and  may  rule  them 
]  both  :  it  treats  the  necessary  as  the  groundwork  of  its  being ;  the 
1  accidental  it  can  direct  and  guide  and  employ  for  its  own  purposes  ; 
i  and  only  while  this  principle  of  reason  stands  firm  and  inexpugna- 
ble, does  man  deserve  to  be  named  the  god  of  this  lower  world.  But 
woe  to  him  who,  from  his  youth,  has  used  himself  to  search  in  neces- 
sity for  something  of  arbitrary  will ;  to  ascribe  to  chance  a  sort  of 
reason,  which  it  is  a  matter  of  religion  to  obey  !  Is  conduct  like  this 
aught  else  than  to  renounce  one's  understanding,  and  give  unre- 
stricted scope  to  one's  inclinations?  We  think  it  is  a  kind  of  piety 
to  move  along  without  consideration  ;  to  let  accidents  that  please  us 
determine  our  conduct ;  and  finally,  to  bestow  on  the  result  of  such  a 
vacillating  life  the  name  of  providential  guidance." 

"  Was  it  never  your  case  that  some  little  circumstance  induced  you 
to  strike  into  a  certain  path,  where  some  accidental  occurrence  ere 
long  met  you,  and  a  series  of  unexpected  incidents  at  length  brought 
you  to  some  point  which  you  yourself  had  scarcely  once  contem- 
plated? Should  not  lessons  of  this  kind  teach  us  obedience  to  des- 
tiny, confidence  in  some  such  guide?" 

"  With  opinions  like  these,  no  woman  could  maintain  her  virtue, 
no  man  could  keep  the  money  in  his  purse  ;  for  occasions  enough  are 
occurring  to  get  rid  of  both.  He  alone  is  worthy  of  respect,  who \ 
'  knows  what  is  of  use  to  himself  and  others,  and  who  labors  to  con- 
trol his  self-will.  Each  man  has  his  own  fortune  in  his  hands  ;  as  | 
the  artist  has  a  piece  of  rude  matter,  which  he  is  to  fashion  to  a 
certain  shape.  But  the  art  of  Jiving  rightly  is  like  all  arts  :  the 
I  capacity  alone  is  born  with  us  ;  it  must  be  learned,  and  practiced 
with  incessant  care."      ■  ,  >'      •      '  y  -/  ' 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XVII.  59 

These  discussions  our  two  speculators  carried  on  between  them  to 
considerable  length  ;  at  last  they  parted,  without  seeming  to  have 
wrought  any  special  conviction  in  each  other,  but  engaging  to  meet 
at  an  appointed  place  next  day. 

Wilhelm  walked  up  and  down  the  streets  for  a  time  ;  he  heard  a 
sound  of  clarionets,  hunting-horns  and  bassoons  ;  it  swelled  his 
bosom  with  delightful  feelings.  It  was  some  traveling  showmen 
that  produced  this  pleasant  music.  He  spoke  with  them  :  for  a  piece 
of  coin  they  followed  him  to  Mariana's  house.  The  space  in  front  of 
the  door  was  adorned  with  lofty  trees  ;  under  them  he  placed  his 
artists ;  and  himself  resting  on  a  bench  at  some  distance,  he  surren- 
dered his  mind  without  restraint  to  the  hovering  tones  which  floated 
round  him  in  the  cool  mellow  night.  Stretched  out  beneath  the 
kind  stars,  he  felt  his  existence  like  a  golden  dream.  "  She,  too, 
hears  these  flutes,"  said  he  within  his  heart;  "she  feels  whose 
remembrance,  whose  love  of  her  it  is  that  makes  the  night  full  of 
music.  In  distance  even,  we  are  united  by  these  melodies  ;  as  in 
every  separation,  by  the  ethereal  accordance  of  love.  Ah  !  two 
hearts  that  love  each  other  are  two  magnetic  needles  ;  whatever  moves 
the  one  must  move  the  other  with  it  ;  for  it  is  one  power  that  works 
in  both,  one  principle  that  pervades  them.  Can  I  in  her  arms  con- 
ceive the  possibility  of  parting  from  her?  And  yet  I  am  soon  to  be 
far  from  her  ;  to  seek  out  a  sanctuary  for  our  love,  and  then  to  have 
her  ever  with  me." 

"  How  often,  when  absent  from  her,  and  lost  in  thoughts  about 
her,  happening  to  touch  a  book,  a  piece  of  dress  or  aught  else,  have 
I  thought  I  felt  her  hand,  so  entirely  was  I  invested  with  her  pres- 
ence !  And  to  recollect  those  moments  which  shunned  the  light  of 
day  and  the  eye  of  the  cold  spectator  ;  which  to  enjoy,  the  gods  might 
determine  to  forsake  the  painless  condition  of  their  pure  blessedness  ! 
To  recollect  them  ?  As  if  by  memory  we  could  renew  the  tumultuous 
thrilling  of  that  cup  of  joy,  which  encircles  our  senses  with  celestial 
bonds,  and  lifts  them  beyond  all  earthly  hindrances.  And  her  form  " 
— He  lost  himself  in  thoughts  of  her  ;  his  rest  passed  away  into  long- 
ing ;  he  leaned  against  a  tree,  and  cooled  his  warm  cheek  on  its  bark  ; 
and  the  winds  of  the  night  wafted  speedily  aside  the  breath,  which 
proceeded  in  sighs  from  his  pure  and  impassioned  bosom.  He  groped 
for  the  neckerchief  he  had  taken  from  her  ;  but  it  was  forgotten,  it 
lay  in  his  other  clothes.     His  frame  quivered  with  emotion. 

The  music  ceased,  and  he  felt  as  if  fallen  from  the  element  in  which 
his  thoughts  had  hitherto  been  soaring.  His  restlessness  increased, 
as  his  feelings  were  no  longer  nourished  and  assuaged  by  the  melody. 
He  sat  down  upon  her  threshold,  and  felt  more  peace.  He  kissed 
the  brass  knocker  of  her  door  ;  he  kissed  the  threshold  over  which 
her  feet  went  out  and  in,  and  warmed  it  by  the  fire  of  his  breast. 
He  again  sat  still  for  a  moment,  and  figured  her  behind  her  curtains 
in  the  white  nightgown,  with  the  red  ribbon  round  her  head,  in 


60  MSISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

sweet  repose  ;  he  almost  fancied  that  he  was  himself  so  near  her, 
she  must  needs  be  dreaming  of  him.  His  thoughts  were  beautiful, 
like  the  spirits  of  the  twilight  ;  rest  and  desire  alternated  within 
him  ;  love  ran  with  a  quivering  hand,  in  a  thousand  moods,  over  all 
the  chords  of  his  soul  :  it  was  as  if  the  spheres  stood  mute  above 
him,  suspending  their  eternal  song  to  watch  the  low  melodies  of  his 
heart. 

Had  he  then  had  about  him  the  master-key  with  which  he  used  to 
open  Mariana's  door,  he  could  not  have  restrained  himself  from  pene- 
trating into  the  sanctuary  of  love.  Yet  he  went  away  slowly  ;  he 
slanted  half-dreaming  in  beneath  the  trees,  set  himself  for  home, 
and  constantly  turned  round  again  ;  at  last,  with  an  effort,  he  con- 
strained himself,  and  actually  departed.  At  the  corner  of  the  street, 
looking  back  yet  once,  he  imagined  that  he  saw  Mariana's  door  open, 
and  a  dark  figure  issue  from  it.  He  was  too  distant  for  seeing  clearly  ; 
and,  before  he  could  exert  himself  and  look  skarply,  the  appearance 
was  already  lost  in  the  night  :  yet  afar  off  he  thought  he  saw  it  again 
gliding  past  a  white  house.  He  stood  and  strained  his  eyes  ;  but, 
ere  he  could  arouse  himself  and  follow  the  phantom,  it  had  vanished. 
Whither  .should  he  pursue  it  ?  What  street  had  the  man  taken,  if  it 
were  a  man  ? 

A  nightly  traveler,  when  at  some  turn  of  his  path  he  has  seen  the 
country  for  an  instant  illuminated  by  a  flash  of  lightning,  will,  with 
dazzled  eyes,  next  moment,  seek  in  vain  for  the  preceding  forms  and 
the  connection  of  his  road  :  so  was  it  in  the  eyes  and  the  heart  of 
Wilhelm.  And  as  a  spirit  of  midnight,  which  awakens  unutterable 
terror,  is,  in  the  succeeding  moments  of  composure,  regarded  as  a 
child  of  imagination,  and  the  fearful  vision  leaves  doubts  without  and 
behind  it  in  the  soul  :  so  likewise  was  Wilhelm  in  extreme  disquie- 
tude, as,  leaning  on  the  corner-stone  of  the  street,  he  heeded  not  the 
clear  gray  of  the  morning,  and  the  crowing  of  the  cocks  ;  till  the 
early  trades  began  to  stir,  and  drove  him  home. 

On  his  way,  he  had  almost  effaced  the  unexpected  delusion  from 
his  mind  by  the  most  sufficient  reasons  ;  yet  the  fine  harmonious 
feelings  of  the  night,  on  which  he  now  looked  back  as  if  they  too  had 
been  a  vision,  were  also  gone.  To  soothe  his  heart,  and  put  the  last 
seal  on  his  returning  belief,  he  took  the  neckerchief  from  the  pocket 
of  the  dress  he  had  been  last  wearing.  The  rustling  of  a  letter  which 
fell  out  of  it  took  the  kerchief  away  from  his  lips  ;  he  lifted  and  read: 

"  As  I  love  thee,  little  fool,  what  ailed  thee  last  night?  This  even- 
ing I  will  come  again.  I  can  easily  suppose  that  thou  art  sick  of 
staying  here  so  long  ;  but  have  patience  ;  at  the  fair  I  will  return  for 
thee.  And  observe,  never  more  put  me  on  that  abominable  black- 
green-brown  jacket  ;  thou  lookest  in  it  like  the  witch  of  Endor.  Did 
I  not  send  the  white  nightgown  that  I  mierlit  have  a  snowy  little 
lambkin  in  my  arms?  Send  thy  letters  always  by  the  ancient  sibyl  ; 
the  devil  himself  has  selected  her  as  Iris." 


BOOK  11.  CHAPTER  L     '  61 


BOOK    II. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Whoever  strives  in  our  siglit  with  vehement  force  to  reach  an 
object,  be  it  one  that  we  praise  or  that  we  blame,  may  count  on  ex- 
citing an  interest  in  our  minds  ;  but  when  once  the  matter  is  decided, 
we  turn  our  eyes  away  from  him  ;  whatever  once  lies  finished  and 
done,  can  no  longer  at  all  fix  our  attention,  especially  if  we  at  first, 
prophesied  an  evil  issue  to  the  undertaking. 

Therefore  we  shall  not  try  to  entertain  our  readers  with  any  cir- 
cumstantial account  of  the  grief  and  desperation  into  which  the  ill- 
fated  Wilhelm  was  cast,  when  he  saw  his  hopes  so  unexpectedly  and 
instantaneously  ruined.  On  the  contrary,  we  shall  even  pass  over 
several  years,  and  again  take  up  our  friend,  where  we  hope  to  find 
him  in  some  sort  of  activity  and  comfort.  First,  however,  we  must 
shortly  set  forth  a  few  matters  necessary  for  maintaining  the  connec- 
tion of  our  narrative. 

The  pestilence,  or  a  malignant  fever,  rages  with  more  fierceness  and 
speedier  effect,  if  the  frame  which  it  attacks  was  before  healthy  and 
full  of  vigor  ;  and  in  like  manner,  when  a  luckless  unlooked-for  fate 
overtook  the  wretched  Wilhelm,  his  whole  being  in  a  moment  was 
laid  waste.  As  when  by  chance,  in  the  preparation  of  some  artificial ; 
firework,  any  part  of  the  composition  kindles  before  its  time  ;  and 
the  skillfully  bored  and  loaded  barrels,  which,  arranged,  and  burning 
after  a  settled  plan,  would  have  painted  in  the  air  a  magnificently 
varying  series  of  flaming  images, — now  hissing  and  roaring,  promis- 
.  cuously  explode  with  a  confused  and  dangerous  crash  ;  so,  in  our 
hero's  case,  did  happiness  and  hope,  pleasure  and  joys,  realities  and 
dreams,  clash  together  with  destructive  tumult,  all  at  once  in  his 
bosom.  In  such  desolate  moments,  the  friend  that  has  hastened  to 
deliverance  stands  fixed  in  astonishment ;  and  for  him  who  suffers,  it 
is  a  benefit  that  sense  forsakes  him. 

Days  of  pain,  unmixed,  ever-returning  and  purposely  renewed, 
succeeded  next ;  still  even  these  are  to  be  regarded  as  a  grace  from 
nature.  In  such  hours  Wilhelm  had  not  yet  quite  lost  his  mistress  ; 
his  pains  were  indefatigable  struggles,  still  to  hold  fast  the  happiness 
that  was  gliding  from  his  soul  ;  again  to  luxuriate  in  thought  on  the 
possibility  of  it  ;  to  procure  a  brief  after-life  for  his  joys  that  had 
departed  forever.     Thus  one  may  look  upon  a  body  as  not  utterly 


63  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

dead  while  tlie  putrefaction  lasts,  while  the  forces  that  in  vain  seek 
to  work  by  their  old  appointment  still  labor  in  dissevering  the  parti- 
cles of  that  frame  which  they  once  animated  ;  and  not  till  all  is 
disunited  and  inert,  till  we  see  the  whole  moldered  down  into  indif- 
ferent dust, — not  till  then  does  there  rise  in  us  the  mournful  vacant 
sentiment  of  death  ;  death,  not  to  be  recalled  save  by  the  breath  of 
Him  that  lives  forever. 

In  a  temper  so  new,  so  entire,  so  full  of  love,  there  was  much  to 
tear  asunder,  to  desolate,  to  kill  ;  and  even  the  healing  force  of  youth 
gave  nourishment  and  violence  to  the  power  of  sorrow.  The  stroke 
had  extended  to  the  roots  of  his  whole  existence.  Werner,  by  neces- 
sity his  confidant,  attacked  the  hated  passion  itself  witli  fire  and 
sword,  resolutely  zealous  to  search  into  the  monster's  inmost  life. 
The  opportunity  was  lucky,  the  evidence  at  hand,  and  many  were 
the  histories  and  narratives  with  which  he  backed  it  out.  With  such 
unrelenting  vehemence  did  he  make  his  advances,  leaving  his  friend 
not  eveji  the  respite  of  the  smallest  momentary  self-deception,  but 
treading-down  every  lurking-place,  in  which  he  might  have  saved 
himself  from  desperation,  that  nature,  not  inclined  to  let  her  darling 
perish  utterly,  visited  him  with  sickness,  to  make  an  outlet  for  him 
on  the  other  side. 

A  violent  fever,  witli  its  train  of  consequences,  medicines,  over- 
straining and  exhaustion,  besides  the  unwearied  attentions  of  his 
family,  the  love  of  his  brothers  and  sisters,  which  first  becomes  truly 
sensible  in  times  of  distress  and  want,  were  so  many  fresh  occupa- 
tions to  his  mind,  and  thus  formed  a  kind  of  painful  entertainment. 
It  was  not  till  he  grew  better,  in  other  words,  till  his  strength  was 
exhausted,  that  Wilhelni  first  looked  down  with  horror  into  the 
gloomy  abyss  of  a  barren  misery,  as  one  looks  down  into  the  hollow 
crater  of  an  extinguished  volcano. 

He  now  bitterly  reproached  himself,  that  after  so  great  a  loss  he 
could  yet  enjoy  one  painless,  restful,  indifferent  moment.  He  de- 
spised his  own  heart,  and  longed  for  the  balm  of  tears  and  lamen- 
tation. 

To  awaken  these  again  within  him,  he  would  recall  to  memory  the 
scenes  of  his  bygone  happiness.  He  would  paint  them  to  his  fancy  in 
the  liveliest  colors,  transport  himself  again  into  the  daj's  when  they 
were  real ;  and  when  standing  on  the  highest  elevation  he  could 
reach,  when  the  sunshine  of  past  times  again  seemed  to  animate  his 
limbs  and  heave  his  bosom,  he  would  look  back  into  the  fearful 
chasm,  would  feast  his  eye  on  its  dismembering  depth,  then  plunge 
down  into  its  horrors,  and  thus  force  from  nature  the  bitterest  pains. 
With  repeated  cruelty  did  he  tear  himself  in  pieces  ;  for  youth,  which 
is  so  rich  in  undeveloped  force,  knows  not  what  it  squanders,  when  to 
the  anguish  which  a  loss  occasions,  it  adds  so  many  sorrows  of  its 
own  producing,  as  if  it  meant  tlien  first  to  give  the  right  value  to  what 
is  gone  forever.     He  likewise  felt  so  convinced  that  his  present  loss 


:    BOOK  IT'  CHAPTER  II.  63 

was  the  sole,  the  first,  the  last  which  he  ever  could  experience  in  life, 
that  he  turned  away  from  every  consolation  which  aimed  at  showing 
that  his  sorrows  might  be  less  than  endless. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Accustomed  in  this  way  to  torment  liimself,  he  now  also  attacked 
what  still  remained  to  him,  what  next  to  love,  and  along  with  it,  had 
given  him  the  highest  joys  and  hopes,  his  talent  as  a  poet  and  actor, 
with  spiteful  criticisms  on  every  side.  In  his  labors  he  could  see 
nothing  but  a  shallow  imitation  of  prescribed  forms  without  intrinsic 
worth  ;  he  looked  on  them  as  stiff  school  exercises,  destitute  of  any 
spark  of  nature,  truth,  or  inspiration.  His  poems  now  appeared 
nothing  more  than  a  monotonous  arrangement  of  syllables,  in  which 
the  most  trite  emotions  and  thoughts  were  dragged  along  and  kept 
together  by  a  miserable  rhyme.  And  thus  did  he  also  deprive  him- 
self of  every  expectation,  every  pleasure,  which,  on  this  quarter  at 
least,  might  have  aided  the  recovery  of  his  peace. 

With  his  theatric  talent  it  fared  no  better.  He  blamed  himself  for 
not  having  sooner  detected  the  vanity  on  which  alone  this  pretension 
had  been  founded.  His  figure,  his  gait,  his  movements,  his  mode  of 
declamation,  were  severally  taxed  :  he  decisively  renounced  every 
species  of  advantage  or  merit,  that  might  have  raised  him  above  the 
common  run  of  men,  and  so  doing  he  increased  his  mute  despair  to 
the  highest  pitch.  For,  if  it  is  hard  to  give  up  a  woman's  love,  no 
less  painful  is  the  task  to  part  from  the  fellowship  of  the  muses,  to 
declare  ourselves  forever  undeserving  to  be  of  their  community  ;  and 
to  forego  the  fairest  and  most  immediate  kind  of  approbation,  what  is 
openly  bestowed  on  our  person,  our  voice  and  our  demeanor. 

Thus  then  our  friend  had  long  ago  entirely  resigned  himself,  and 
set  about  devoting  his  powers  with  the  greatest  zeal  to  the  business 
of  trade.  To  the  surprise  of  friends,  and  to  the  great  contentment  of 
his  father,  no  one  Avas  now  more  diligent  than  Wilhelm,  on  the  ex- 
change or  in  the  counting-house,  in  the  salesroom  or  the  ware- 
houses ;  correspondence  and  calculations,  all  that  was  intrusted  to  his 
charge,  lie  attended  to  and  managed  with  the  greatest  diligence  and 
zeal.  Not  in  truth  with  that  warm  diligence  which  to  the  busj'  man 
is  its  own  reward,  when  he  follows  with  constancy  and  order  the  em- 
ployment he  was  born  for  ;  but  with  the  silent  diligence  of  duty, 
which  has  the  best  principle  for  its  foundation,  which  is  nourished  by 
conviction,  and  rewarded  by  conscience  ;  yet,  which  oft,  even  when 
the  clearest  testimony  of  our  minds  is  crowning  it  with  approbation, 
can  scarcely  repress  a  struggling  sigh. 

In  this  manner  he  had  lived  for  a  time,  assiduously  busied,  ancj  at 


^.aA^-^  ^  ~^ 


64  M BISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

last  persuaded  tliat  his  former  hard  trial  had  been  ordained  by  fate 
for  the  best.  "He  felt  glad  at  having  thus  been  timefully,  though 
somewhat  harshly  warned  about  the  proper  path  of  life  ;  while  many 
are  constrained  to  expiate  more  heavily,  and  at  a  later  age,  the  mis- 
conceptions into  which  tlieir  youthful  inexperience  has  betrayed  them. 
For,  each  man  commonly  defends  himself  as  long  as  possible  from 
casting  out  the  idols  which  he  worships  in  his  soul,  from  acknowl- 
edging  a  master  error,  and  admitting  any  truth  which  brings  him  to 
despair. 

Determined  as  lie  was  to  abandon  his  dearest  projectors,  some  time ' 
was  still  necessary  to  convince  him  fully  of  his  misfortune.  At  last, 
however,  he  had  so  completely  succeeded  by  irrefragable  reasons  in 
annihilating  every  hope  of  love,  of  poetical  performance,  or  stage 
representation,  that  he  took  courage  to  obliterate  entirely  all  the  traces 
of  his  folly,  all  that  could  in  any  way  remind  him  of  it.  For  this 
purpose  he  had  lit  a  fire  in  his  chamber  one  cool  evening,  and  brought 
out  a  little  chest  of  relics,  among  which  were  multitudes  of  small; 
articles,  that,  in  memorable  moments,  he  had  begged  or  stolen  from; 
Mariana.  Each  ^vithered  flower  brought  to  his  mind  the  time  when 
it  bloomed  fresh  among  her  hair  ;  each  little  note  the  happy  hour  to 
which  it  had  invited  him  ;  each  ribbon-knot  the  lovely  resting-place 
of  his  head,  her  beautiful  bosom.  So  occupied,  was  it  not  to  be  ex- 
pected that  each  en^otion,  whicli  he  thought  long  since  quite  dead, 
should  again  begin  to  move  ?  Was  it  not  to  be  expected  that  the 
passion,  over  which,  when  separated  from  his  mistress,  he  had  gained 
the  victory,  should  in  the  presence  of  these  memorials,  again  gather 
strength  ?  We  first  observe  how  dreary  and  disagreeable  an  over- 
clouded day  is,  when  a  single  sunbeam  pierces  through,  and  offers  to 
us  the  exhilarating  splendor  of  a  serene  hour. 

Accordingly,  it  was  not  without  disturbance  that  he  saw  these  relics, 
long  preserved  as  sacred,  fade  away  from  before  him  in  smoke  and 
flame.  Sometimes  he  shuddered  and  hestitated  in  his  task  ;  he  had 
still  a  pearl  necklace  and  a  flowered  neckerchief  in  his  hands,  when 
he  resolved  to  quicken  the  decaying  fire  with  the  poetical  attempts  of 
his  youth. 

Till  now  he  had  carefully  laid  up  whatever  had  proceeded  from  his 
pen,  since  the  earliest  unfolding  of  his  mind.  His  papers  yet  lay  tied 
up  in  a  bundle  at  the  bottom  of  the  chest,  where  he  had  packed  them, 
purposing  to  take  them  with  him  in  his  elopement.  How  altogether 
different  were  his  feelings  now  in  opening  them,  and  his  feelings 
then  in»tying  them  together  ! 

If  we  happen,  under  certain  circumstances,  to  have  written  and 
sealed  and  dispatched  a  letter  to  a  friend,  which,  however,  does  not 
find  him,  but  is  brought  back  to  us,  and  we  open  it  at  the  distance  of 
some  considerable  time,  a  singular  emotion  is  produced  in  us,  on 
breaking  up  our  own  seal,  and  conversing  with  our  altered  self  as 
with  a  third  person.     A  similar  and  deep  feeling  seized  our  friend,  as 


BOOK  n.  CHAPTER  11.  65 

lie  now  opened  tliis  packet,  and  threw  the  scattered  leaves  into  the 
fire  ;  which  was  flaming  fiercely  with  its  offerings,  when  Werner 
entered,  expressed  his  wonder  at  the  blaze,  and  asked  what  was  the 
matter. 

"I  am  now  giving  proof,"  said  Wilhelm,  "that  I  am  serious  in 
abandoning  a  trade  for  which  I  was  not  born."  And  with  these 
words  he  cast  the  second  packet  likewise  into  the  fire.  Werner  made 
a  motion  to  prevent  him  ;   but  the  business  was  already  done. 

"I  cannot  see  how  thou  shouldst  bring  thyself  to  such  extremi- 
ties," said  Werner.  "  Why  must  these  labors,  because  they  are  not 
excellent,  be  annihilated  'i " 

"Because  either  a  poem  is  excellent,  or  it  should  not  be  allowed 
to  exist.  Because  each  man,  who  has  no  gift  for  producing  first-rate 
works,  should  entirely  abstain  from  the  pursuit  of  art,  and  seriously 
guard  himself  against  every  deception  on  that  subject.  For  it  must 
be  owned,  that  in  all  men  there  is  a  certain  vague  desire  to  imitate 
whatever  is  presented  to  them  ;  and  such  desires  do  not  prove  at  all 
that  we  possess  the  force  within  us  necessary  for  succeeding  in  these 
enterprises.  Look  at  boys,  how,  whenever  any  rope-dancers  have 
been  visiting  the  town,  they  go  scrambling  up  and  down,  and  balanc- 
ing on  all  the  planks  and  beams  within  their  reach,  till  some  other 
charm  calls  them  off  to  other  sports,  for  which  perhaps  they  are  as 
little  suited.  Hast  thou  never  marked  it  in  the  circle  of  our  friends? 
No  sooner  does  a  dilettante  introduce  himself  to  notice,  than  numbers 
.  of  them  set  themselves  to  learn  playing  on  his  instrument.  How  I 
many  wander  back  and  forward  on  this  bootless  way !  Happv  they. 
whfl,-soon  dotoct  the  chasm  that  lies  between  their  wishes  ana  their] 
'  powers  !  "  ' 

Werner  contradicted  this  opinion  ;  their  discussion  became  lively, 
and  Wilhelm  could  not  without  emotion  employ  against  his  friend 
the  arguments  with  which  he  had  already  so  frequently  tormented 
himself.  Werner  maintained  that  it  was  not  reasonable  \\*holly  to 
relinquish  a  pursuit  for  which  a  man  had  some  propensity  and  talent, 
merely  because  he  never  could  succeed  in  it  to  full  perfection.  There 
were  many  vacant  hours,  he  said,  which  might  be  filled  up  by  it ; 
and  then  by  and  by  some  result  might  be  produced,  which  would 
yield  a  certain  satisfaction  to  himself  and  others. 

Wilhelm, -who  in  this  matter  was  of  quite  a  different  opinion,  here 
interrupted  him,  and  said  with  great  vivacity  : 

"  How  immensely,  dear  friend,  do  you  err  in  believing  that  a  work, 
the  first  presentation  of  which  is  to  fill  the  whole  soul,  can  be  pro- 
duced in  J*roken  hours  scraped  together  from  other  extraneous  em- 
ployment !  No,  the  poet  must  live  wholly  for  himself,  wholly  in  the 
objects  that  delight  him.  Heaven  has  furni.shed  him  internally  with 
precious  gifts  ;  he  carries  in  his  bosom  a  treasure  that  is  ever  of 
itself  increasing  ;  he  must  also  live  with  this  treasure,  undisturbed 
from  without,  in  that  still  blessedness  which  the  rich  seek  in  vain  to 
Meister — 3 


r,6  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

purchase  witli  their  accumulated  stores.     Look  at  men,  how  they 
struggle  after  happiness  and  satisfaction  !     Their  wishes,  their  toil, 
their  gold,  are  ever  hunting  restlessly  ;  and  after  what?     After  that 
which  tlie  poet  has  received  from  nature, — the  right  enjoyment  ofv 
the  world  ;  the  feeling  of  himself  in  others  ;  the  harmonious  cony 
junction  of  many  things  that  will  seldom  exist  together. 

"What  is  it  that  keeps  men  in  continual  discontent  and  agitation?   --^ 
It  is,  that  they  cannot  make  realities  correspond  with  their  concep-     / 
tions,  that  enjoyment  steals  away  from  among  their  hands,  that  the  / 
wished-for  comes  too  late,  and  nothing  reached  and  acquired  pro-  / 
duces  on  the  heart  the  effect  which  their  longing  for  it  at  a  distance/ 
led  them  to  anticipate.     Now  fate  has  exalted  the  poet  above  all  this/ 
as  if  he  were  a  god.     He  views  the  conflicting  tumult  of  the  passions'; 
sees  families  and  kingdoms  raging  in  aimless  commotion  ;  sees  those 
inexplicable  enigmas  of  misunderstanding,  which  frequently  a  single 
monosyllable  would  suffice  to  explain,  occasioning  convulsions  unut- 
terably baleful.     He  lias  a  fellow-feeling  of  the  mournful  and  the) 
joyful  in  the  fate  of  all  human  beings.     When  the  man  of  the  world/ 
is  devoting  his  days  to  wasting  melancholy,  for  some  deep  disappoint- 
ment ;  or,  in  the  ebullience  of  joy,  is  goin;^  out  to  meet  his  happy 
destiny,  the  lightly-moved  and  all-conceiving  spirit  of  the  poet  steps 
forth,  like  the  sun  from  night  to  day,  and  with  soft  transitions  tunes 
his  heart  to  joy  or  woe.     From  his  heart,  his  native  soil,  springs  up 
the  lovely  flower  of  wisdom  ;  and  if  others,  while  waking,  dream, 
and  are  pained  with  fantastic  delusions  from  their  every  sense,  he 
passes  the  dream  of  life  like  one  awake,  and  the  strangest  of  inci- 
dents is  to  him  but  a  part  both  of  the  pastand  of  the  f  utjjBe.     And  thus 
the  poet  is  at  once  a  teacher,  a  prophet,  a  friend, of  gods  and  men. 
How  !  thou  wouldst  have  him  descend  f rom  liis  height  to  some  pal- 
try occupations  ?     He  who  is  fashioned  like  the  bird  to  hover  round 
the  world,  to  nestle  on  the  lofty  summits,  to  feed, on  buds  and  fruits, 
exchanging  gayly  one;  bougli  for  another,  he  ought  also  to  work  at  the 
plow  like  an  ox  :   like  a  dog  to  train  himself   to  the   harness  and 
draught  :  or  perhaps,  tied  up  in  a  chain,  to  guard  a  farm-yard  by  his 
barking  ! " 

Werner,  it  may  Avell  be  supposed,  had  listened  with  the  greatest 
surprise.  '•'  All  true,"  he  rejoined,  ' '  if  men  were  but  made  like  birds, 
and  though  they  neither  spun  nor  weaved,  could  yet  spend  peaceful 
days  in  perpetual  enjoyment ;  if,  at  the  approach  of  winter,  they 
could  as  easily  betake  themselves  to  distant  regions,  could  retire 
before  scarcity,  and  fortify  themselves  against  frost." 

"Poets  have  lived  so,"  exclaimed  Willielm,  "in  times  when  true 
nobleness  was  better  reverenced  ;  and  so  should  they  ever  live. 
Sufficiently  provided  for  within,  they  had  need  of  little  from  with- 
out ;  the  gift  of  conmiunicating  lofty  emotions  and  glorious  images  to 
men,  in  melodies  and  words  that  charmed  the  ear,  and  fixed  them- 
selves inseparably  on  whatever  objects  they  referred  to,  of  old  enrap- 


BOOK  IF.  CHAPTER  IT.  67 

tured  the  world,  and  served  the  gifted  as  a  rich  inheritance.  At  the 
courts  of  kings,  at  the  tables  of  the  great,  beneath  the  windows  oi 
the  fair,  the  sound  of  them  was  heard,  while  the  ear  and  the  soul 
were  shut  to  all  beside  ;  and  men  felt,  as  we  do  when  delight  comes 
over  us,  and  we  stop  with  rapture  if  among  the  dingles  we  are  cross- 
ing the  voice  of  the  nightingale  starts  out  touching  and  strong.  They 
found  a  home  in  every  habitation  of  the  world,  and  the  lowliness  of 
their  condition  but  exalted  them  the  more.  The  hero  listened  to  their 
songs  ;  and  the  conqueror  of  the  earth  did  reverence  to  a  poet,  for  he 
felt  that  with  out  poets  liis  own  wild  and  vast  existence  would  pass  away 
like  a  whirlwind,  and  be  forgotten  forever.  The  lover  wished  that 
he  could  feel  his  longings  and  his  joys  so  variedly  and  so  harmoniously 
as  the  poet's  inspired  lips  had  skill  "to  show  them  forth  ;  and  even  the 
rich  man  could  not  of  himself  discern  such  costliness  in  his  idol 
grandeurs,  as  when  they  were  presented  to  him  shining  in  the  splen- 
dor of  the  poet's  spirit,  sensible  to  all  worth,  and  exalting  all.  Nay, 
if  thou  wilt  have  it,  who  but  the  poet  was  it  that  first  formed  gods 
for  us  ;  that  exalted  us  to  them,  and  brought  them  doA\Ti  to  us  ?  " 

"My  friend,"  said  Werner,  after  some  reflection,  "  it  has  often 
grieved  me,  that  thou  shouldst  strive  by  force  to  banish  from  thy 
soul  what  thou  feele.st  so  vividly.  I  am  greatly  mistaken,  if  it  were 
not  better  for  thee  in  some  degree  to  yield  to  these  propensities,  than 
to  waste  thyself  by  the  contradictions  of  so  hard  a  piece  of  self-denial, 
and  with  the  enjoyment  of  this  one  guiltless  pleasure  to  renounce  the 
enjoyment  of  all  others." 

"  Shall  1  confess  it,"  said  the  other,  "and  ^vilt  thou  not  laugh  at 
me  if  I  acknowledge  that  these  ideas  pursue  me  constantly  ;  that,  let 
me  fly  them  as  I  will,  when  I  explore  my  heart,  I  find  all  my  early 
wishes  yet  rooted  there  firmly,  nay  more  firmly  than  ever  ?  Yet  what 
now  remains  for  me,  wretched  that  I  am  ?  Ah  !  whoever  should  have 
told  me  that  the  arms  of  my  spirit,  with  which  I  Avas  grasping  at  in- 
finity, and  hoping  with  certainty  to  clasp  something  great  and  glorious, 
would  so  soon  be  crushed  and  smote  in  pieces  ;  whoever  should  have 
told  me  this  would  have  brought  me  to  despair.  And  yet  now,  when 
judgment  has  been  passed  against  me  ;  now  when  she,  that  was  to  be 
as  my  divinity  to  guide  me  to  my  wishes,  is  gone  forever,  what  remains 
but  that  I  yield  up  my  soul  to  "the  bitterest  woes  ?  O  my  brother  !  I 
will  not  deceive  you  :  in  my  secret  purposes,  she  was  the  hook  on 
which  the  ladder  of  my  hopes  was  fixed  :  See  !  With  daring  aim 
the  mounting  adventurer  hovers  in  the  air  :  the  iron  breaks,  and  he 
lies  broken  and  dismembered  on  the  eanh.  No,  there  is  no  hope,  no 
comfort  for  me  more  !  I  will  not,"  he  cried  out,  springing  to  his  feet, 
"leave  a  single  fragment  of  these  wretched  papers  from  the  flames." 
He  then  seized  one  or  two  packets  of  them,  tore  them  up,  and  threw 
them  into  the  fire.  Werner  endeavored  to  restrain  him,  but  in  vain. 
"Let  me  alone  !"  cried  Wilhelm  ;  what  should  these  miserable  leaves 
do  here  ?    To  me  they  give  neither  pleasant  recollections,  nor  pleasant 


68  MEISTER'8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

hopes.  Shall  they  remain  behind  to  vex  me  to  the  end  of  my  life  ? 
Shall  they  perhaps  one  day  serve  the  world  for  a  jest,  instead  of 
awakening  sympathy  and  horror?  Woe  to  me  !  my  doom  is  woe  ! 
Now  I  comprehend  the  wailings  of  the  poets,  of  the  wretched  whom 
necessity  has  rendered  wise.  How  long  did  1  look  upon  mysel  f  as  in- 
vulnerable and  invincible  ;  and  alas  !  I  am  now  made  to  see  that  a 
deep  and  early  sorrow  can  never  heal,  can  never  pass  away  ;  I  feel 
that  I  shall  take  it  with  me  to  my  grave.  No  !  not  a  day  of  my  life 
shall  escape  this  anguish,  which  at  last  must  crush  me  down  ;  and  her 
image  too  shall  stay  with  me,  shall  live  and  die  with  me,  the  image  of 
the  worthless — O  my  friend  !  if  I  must  speak  the  feelings  of  my 
heart — the  perhaps  not  altogether  worthless  !  Her  situation,  the  crook- 
edness of  her  destiny,  have  a  thousand  times  excused  her  in  my  mind. 
I  have  been  too  cruel  ;  you  steeled  me  in  your  own  cold  unrelenting 
harshness  ;  you  held  my  wavering  senses  captive,  and  hindered  me 
from  doing  for  myself  and  her  what  I  owed  to  boLh.  Who  knows  to 
what  a  state  I  may  have  brought  her  ;  my  conscience  by  degrees  pre- 
sents to  me,  in  all  its  heaviness,  in  what  helplessness,  in  what  despair 
I  may  have  left  her.  Was  it  not  possible  that  she  might  clear 
herself  ?  Was  it  not  possible  ?  How  many  misconceptions  throw 
the  world  into  perplexity  ;  how  many  circumstances  may  extort 
forgiveness  for  the  greatest  fault !  Often  do  I  figure  her  as  sitting 
by  herself  in  silence,  leaning  on  her  elbows.  '  This,'  she  says,  '  is  the 
faith,  the  love  he  swore  to  me  !  With  this  hard  stroke  to  end  the 
delicious  life  which  made  us  one  ?  '  "  He  broke  out  into  a  stream  of 
tears,  while  he  threw  himself  down  with  his  face  upon  the  table,  and 
wetted  the  remaining  papers  with  his  weeping. 

Werner  stood  beside  him  in  the  deepest  perplexity:  He  had  not 
anticipated  this  fierce  ebullition  of  feeling.  More  than  once  he  had 
tried  to  interrupt  liis  friend,  more  than  once  to  lead  the  conversation 
elsewhere,  but  in  vain  ;  the  current  was  too  strong  for  him.  It  re- 
mained that  long-suffering  friendship  should  again  take  up  her  office. 
Werner  allowed  the  first  shock  of  sorrow  to  pass  over,  while  by  his 
silent  presence  lie  testified  a  pure  and  honest  sympathy.  And  thus 
they  both  remained  that  evening  :  Wilhelm  sunk  in  the  dull  feeling 
of  old  sorrows  ;  and  the  other  terrified  at  this  new  outbreaking  of  a 
passion,  which  he  thought  his  prudent  counsels  and  keen  persuafiion 
had  long  since  mastered  and  destroyed- 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  IIL  69 


CHAPTER  III. 

After  such  relapses,  Wilhelm  usually  applied  himself  to  business 
and  activity  with  augmented  ardor  ;  and  he  found  it  the  best  means 
to  escape  the  labyrinth  into  which  he  had  again  been  tempted  to 
enter.  His  attractive  way  of  treating  strangers,  the  ease  with  wliich 
he  carried  on  a  corresponclenco  in  any  living  language,  more  and  more 
increased  the  hopes  of  his  father  and  his  trading  friends  ;  and  com- 
forted them  in  their  sorrow  for  his  sickness,  the  origin  of  which  had 
not  been  known,  and  for  the  pause  which  had  thus  interrupted  tlieir 
plan.  They  determined  a  second  time  on  Wilhelm's  setting  out  to 
travel  ;  and  we  now  find  him  on  horseback,  with  his  saddle-bags 
behind  him,  exhilarated  by  the  motion  and  the  free  air,  approaching 
the  mountains,  where  he  had  some  affairs  to  settle. 

He  winded  slowly  on  his  path,  through  dales  and  over  hills,  with 
a  feeling  of  the  greatest  satisfaction.  Overhanging  cliffs,  roaring 
brooks,  moss-grown  rocky  walls,  deep  jirecipices,  he  hei-e  saw  for  the 
first  time  ;  yet  his  earliest  dreams  of  youth  had  wandered  among 
such  regions.  In  these  scenes,  he  felt  his  age  renewed  ;  all  the  sor- 
rows he  had  undergone  were  obliterated  from  his  soul  ;  with  un- 
broken cheerfulness  he  repeated  to  himself  passages  of  various  poems, 
particularly  of  the  "  Pastor  Fido,"  which,  in  these  solitary  places, 
iiocked  in  crowds  into  his  mind.  He  also  recollected  many  pieces  of 
his  own  songs,  and  recited  them  with  a  peculiar  contentment.  He 
peopled  the  world  which  lay  before  him  with  all  the  forms  of  the 
past  ;  and  each  step  into  the  future  was  to  him  full  of  augury  of  im- 
portant operations  and  remarkable  events. 

Several  men,  who  came  behind  him  in  succession,  and  saluted  him 
as  they  passed  by  to  continue  their  hasty  way  into  the  mountains,  by 
steep  footpaths,  sometimes  interrupted  his  thoughts  without  attract- 
ing his  attention  to  themselves.  At  last  a  communicative  traveler 
Joined  him,  and  explained  the  reason  of  this  general  pilgrimage. 

"  At  Hochdorf,"  he  said,  "  there  is  a  play  to  be  acted  to-night,  and 
the  whole  neighborhood  is  gathering  to  see  it." 

"How!"  cried  Wilhelm.  "In  these  solitary  hills,  among  these 
impenetrable  forests,  has  theatric  art  sought  out  a  place,  and  built 
herself  a  temple?     And  I  am  journeying  to  her  festivities-!" 

"You  will  wonder  more,"  said  the  other,  "when  you  learn  by 
whom  the  piece  is  to  be  played.  There  is  in  the  place  a  large  manu- 
factory which  employs  many  people.  The  proprietor,  who  lives,  so 
to  speak,  remote  from  all  human  society,  can  find  no  better  means  of 
entertaining  his  workmen  during  winter,  than  allowing  them  to  act 
plays.  He  suffers  no  cards  among  them  ;  and  wishes  also  to  with- 
draw them  from  all  coarse  rustic  practices.     Thus  they  pass  the  long 


70  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

evenings  ;  and  to-day,  being  the  old  gentleman's  birthday,  they  are 
giving  a  particular  festival  in  honor  of  him." 

Wilhelm  came  to  Hochdorf,  where  he  was  to  pass  the  night ;  and 
alighted  at  the  manufactory,  the  proprietor  of  which  stood  as  a 
debtor  in  his  list. 

When  he  gave  his  name,  the  old  man  cried  in  a  glad  surprise : 
"Ay,  sir,  are  you  the  son  of  that  worthy  man  to  whom  I  owe  so 
many  thanks  ;  so  long  have  owed  money?  Your  good  father  has  had 
so  much  patience  with  me,  I  should  be  a  knave  if  I  did  not  pay  you 
speedily  and  cheerfully.  You  come  at  the  proper  time  to  see  that  I 
am  fully  in  earnest  about  it." 

He  then  called  out  his  wife,  who  seemed  no  less  delighted  than 
himself  to  see  the  youth  :  she  declared  that  he  was  very  like  his 
father  ;  and  lamented  that,  having  such  a  multitude  of  guests  already 
in  the  house,  she  could  not  lodge  him  for  the  night. 

The  account  was  clear,  and  quickly  settled  ;  Wilhelm  put  the  roll 
of  gold  into  his  pocket,  and  wished  that  all  his  other  business  might 
go  on  as  smoothly.  At  last  the  play-hour  came  :  they  now  waited 
nothing  but  the  coming  of  the  head  forester,  who  at  length  also 
arrived  ;  entered  with  a  few  hunters,  and  was  received  with  the 
greatest  reverence. 

The  company  was  then  led  into  the  playhouse,  formed  out  of  a 
barn  that  lay  close  upon  the  garden.  Without  any  extraordinary 
taste,  both  seats  and  stage  were  yet  decked  out  in  a  cheerful  and 
pretty  way.  One  of  the  painters  employed  in  the  manufactory  had 
formerly  worked  as  an  understrapper  at  the  Prince's  theatre  ;  he  had 
now  represented  woods,  and  streets,  and  chambers,  somewhat  rudely, 
it  is  true,  yet  so  as  to  be  recognized  for  such.  The  piece  itself  they 
had  borrowed  from  a  strolling  company,  and  shaped  it  aright  accord- 
ing to  their  own  ideas.  As  it  was,  it  did  not  fail  to  yield  some  enter- 
tainment. The  plot  of  two  lovers  wishing  to  carry  off  a  girl  from 
her  guardian,  and  mutually  from  one  another,  produced  a  great 
variety  of  interesting  situations.  Being  the  first  play  our  friend  had 
witnessed  for  so  long  a  time,  it  suggested  several  retiections  to  him. 
It  was  full  of  action,  but  without  any  true  delineation  of  character. 
It  pleased  and  delighted.  Such  are  always  the  beginnings  of  the 
scenic  art.  The  rude  man  is  contented  if  he  sees  but  something 
going  on,  the  man  of  more  refinement  must  be  made  to  feel,  the  man 
entirely  refined  desires  to  reflect. 

The  players  he  would  willingly  have  helped  here  and  there  ;  for  a 
very  little  would  have  made  them  greatly  better. 

His  silent  meditations  were  somewhat  broken  in  upon  by  the 
tobacco  smoke,  which  now  began  to  rise  in  great  and  greater  copious- 
ness. Soon  after  the  conmieucement  of  the  piece,  the  head  forester 
had  lit  his  pipe  ;  by  and  by,  others  took  the  same  liberty.  The  large 
dogs  too,  which  followed  these  gentlemen,  introduced  themselves  in 
no  pleasant  style.     At  first  they  had  been  bolted  out ;  but  soon  fiudr 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  IV.  71 

ing  the  back-door  passage,  they  entered  on  the  stage  ;  ran  against 
the  actors  ;  and  at  last,  jumping  over  the  orchestra,  joined  their 
masters,  who  had  taken  up  the  front  seats  in  the  pit. 

For  afterpiece  an  opera  was  given.  A  portrait,  representing  the 
old  gentleman  in  his  bridegroom  dress,  stood  upon  an  a:tar,  hung 
with  garlands.  All  the  players  paid  their  reverence  to  it  in  the  most 
submissive  postures.  The  youngest  child  came  forward  dressed  in 
white,  and  made  a  speech  in  verse  ;  by  which  the  whole  family,  and 
even  the  head  forester  himself,  whom  it  brought  in  mind  of  his  own 
children,  were  melted  into  tears.  So  ended  the  piece  ;  and  Wilhelm 
could  not  help  stepping  on  the  stage,  to  have  a  closer  view  of  the 
actresses,  to  praise  them  for  their  good  performance,  and  give  them 
a  little  counsel  for  the  future. 

The  remaining  business,  which  our  friend  in  the  following  days 
had  to  transact  in  various  quarters  of  the  hili-couutry,  was  not  all 
so  pleasant,  or  so  easy  to  conclude  with  satisfaction.  Many  of  his 
creditors  entreated  for  delay,  many  were  uncourteous,  many  lied. 
In  conformity  with  his  instructions,  he  had  some  of  them  to  sue  at 
law  ;  he  was  thus  obliged  to  seek  out  advocates,  and  give  instructions 
to  them,  to  appear  before  judges,  and  to  go  through  many  other 
sorry  duties  of  the  same  sort. 

His  case  was  hardly  bettered,  when  people  chanced  to  incline  show- 
ing some  attentions  to  him.  He  found  very  few  that  could  in  any  way 
instruct  him  ;  few  with  whom  he  could  hope  to  establish  a  useful  com- 
mercial correspondence.  Unhappily,  moreover,  the  weather  now  grew 
rainy,  and  traveling  on  horseback  in  this  district  came  to  be  attended 
with  insufEerable  difficulties.  He  therefore  thanked  his  stars  on  again 
getting  near  the  level  country  ;  and  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains  look- 
ing out  into  a  fertile  and  beautiful  plain,  intersected  by  a  smooth- 
flowing  river,  and  seeing  a  cheerful  little  town  lying  on  its  banks  all 
glittering  in  the  sunshine,  he  resolved,  though  without  any  special 
business  in  the  place,  to  pass  a  day  or  two  there,  that  he  might  i-efresli 
both  himself  and  his  horse,  which  the  bad  roads  had  considerably 
injured. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


On  alighting  at  an  inn,  upon  the  market-place,  he  found  matters 
going  on  very  joyously,  at  least  very  stirringly.  A  great  company  of 
rope-dancers,  leapers  and  jugglers,  having  a  strong  man  along  with 
them,  had  just  arrived  with  their  wives  and  children  ;  and  while 
preparing  for  a  grand  exhibition,  they  kept  up  a  perpetual  racket. 
They  first  quarreled  with  the  landlord  ;  then  with  one  another  ;  and 
if  their  contention  was  intolerable,  the  expressions  of  their  satisfac- 
tion were  infinitely  more  so.     Undetermined  whether  he  should  go  or 


73  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

stay,  lie  was  standing  in  the  door,  looking  at  some  workmen  who  had 
just  begun  to  erect  a  stage  in  the  middle  of  the  sqixare. 

A  girl,  with  roses  and  other  flowers  for  sale,  coming  by,  held  out 
her  basket  to  him,  and  he  purchased  a  beautiful  nosegay  ;  which, 
like  one  that  had  a  taste  for  these  things,  he  tied  up  in  a  different 
fashion,  and  was  looking  at  it  with  a  satisfied  air,  when  the  Avindow 
of  another  inn  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  square  flew  up,  and  a  hand- 
some young  lady  looked  out  from  it.  Notwithstanding  the  distance, 
he  observed  that  her  face  was  animated  by  a  pleasant  cheerfulness  ; 
her  fair  hair  fell  carelessly  streaming  about  her  neck  ;  she  seemed  to 
be  looking  at  the  stranger.  In  a  short  time  afterwards,  a  boy  with  a 
white  jacket,  and  a  barber's  apron  on,  came  out  from  the  door  of  her 
house,  towards  Wilhelm  ;  saluted  him,  and  said  :  "  The  lady  at  the 
window  bids  me  ask  if  you  will  not  faA'or  her  with  a  share  of  your 
beautiful  flowers." — "They  are  all  at  her  service,"  answered  Wil- 
helm, giving  the  nosegay  to  this  nimble  messenger,  and  nu\king  a 
bow  to  the  fair  one,  which  she  returned  with  a  friendly  courtesy,  and 
then  withdrew  from  the  window. 

Amused  with  this  small  adventvire,  he  was  going  upstairs  to  his 
chamber,  when  a  young  creature  sprang  against  him,  and  attracted  his 
attention.  A  short  silk  waistcoat  with  slashed  Spanish  sleeves,  tight 
trousers  with  putfs,  looked  very  pretty  on  the  child.  Its  long  black 
hair  was  curled,  and  wound  in  locks  and  plaits  about  the  head.  He 
looked  at  the  figure  with  astonishment,  and  could  not  determine 
whether  to  take  it  for  a  boy  or  a  girl.  However,  he  decided  for  the 
latter  ;  and  as  the  child  ran  by,  he  took  her  up  in  his  arms,  bade  her 
good-day,  and  asked  her  to  whom  she  belonged,  though  he  easily  per- 
ceived that  she  must  be  a  member  of  the  vaulting  and  dancing  com- 
pany lately  arrived.  She  viewed  him  with  a  dark  sharp  side-look,  as 
she  pushed  herself  out  of  his  arms,  and  ran  into  the  kitchen  without 
making  any  answer. 

On  coming  upstairs,  he  found  in  the  large  parlor  two  men  practic- 
ing tlie  small  sword,  or  seeming  rather  to  make  trial  which  was  the 
better  fencer.  One  of  them  plainly  enough  belonged  to  the  vaulting 
company,  the  other  had  a  somewhat  less  savage  aspect.  AN'ilhelm 
io(jk(Hl  at  them,  and  had  reason  to  admire  them  both  ;  and  as  the 
black-bearded,  sturdy  contender  soon  afterwards  forsook  the  place  of 
action,  the  other  with  extreme  complaisance  offered  Wilhelm  the 
rapier. 

"If  you  want  to  take  a  scholar  under  your  inspection,"  said  our 
friend,  "  I  am  well  content  to  risk  a  few  passes  with  you." 

Accordingly  they  fought  together ;  and  although  the  stranger 
greatly  over-matched  his  new  competitor,  he  politely  Icept  declaring 
that  it  all  depended  njjon  practice  ;  in  fact,  ^Vilholm,  inferior  as  he 
was,  had  made  it  evident  that  he  had  got  liis  first  instructions  from  a 
good,  solid,  thorough -paced  (ierman  fencing-master. 

Their  entertainment  was  disturbed  by  the  uproar  with  which  the 


BOOI{:  11.  CHAPTER  IV.  73 

parti-colored  brotlierliood  issued  from  the  iun,  to  make  proclamation 
of  tlie  show,  and  awaken  a  desire  to  see  their  art,  throughout  the 
town.  Preceded  by  a  drum,  the  manager  advanced  on  horseback  ;  he 
was  followed  by  a  female  dancer  mounted  on  a  corresponding  hack, 
and  holding  a  child  before  her,  all  bedizened  with  ribbons  and  span-  ^ 
gles.  Next  came  the  remainder  of  the  troup  on  foot  ;  some  of  them 
carrying  children  on  their  shoulders  in  dangerous  postures,  yet 
smoothly  and  lightly  ;  among  these  the  young,  dark,  black-haired 
figure  again  attracted  Wilhelm's  notice. 

Pickleherring  ran  gayly  up  and. down  the  crowding  multitude,  dis- 
tributing his  ^land-bills  with  much  practical  fun  ;  here  smacking  the 
lips  of  a  girl,  there  breeching  a  boy,  and  awakening  generally  among 
the  people  an  invincible  desire  to  know  more  of  him. 

On  the  painted  Hags,  the  manifold  science  of  the  company  was  visi- 
bly delineated  ;  particularly  of  a  Monsieur  Xarciss  and  the  Demoiselle 
Landrinette;  both  of  whom,  being  main  characters,  had  prudently 
kept  back  from  the  procession,  thereby  to  acquire  a  more  dignified 
consideration,  and  excite  a  greater  curiosity. 

During  the  procession,  Wilhelm's  fair  neighbor  had  again  appeared 
at  the  window  ;  and  he  did  not  fail  to  inquire  about  her  of  his  new 
companion.  This  person,  whom,  for  the  present,  we  shall  call  Laertes, 
offered  to  take  Wilhelm  over  and  introduce  him.  "  I  and  the  lady," 
said  he,  laughing,  "are  two  fragments  of  an  acting  company  that 
made  shipwreck  here  a  short  while  ago.  The  pleasantness  of  the 
place  has  induced  us  to  stay  in  it,  and  consume  our  little  stock  of 
cash  in  peace,  while  one  of  our  friends  is  out  seeking  some  situation 
for  himself  and  us." 

Laertes  immediately  accompanied  his  new  acquaintance  to  Philina's 
door  ;  where  he  left  him  for  a  moment,  and  ran  to  a  shop  hard  by  for 
a  few  sweetmeats.  "  I  am  sure  you  will  thank  me,"  said  he  on  re- 
turning, "  for  procuring -you  so  pleasant  an  acquaintance." 

The  lady  came  out  from  her  room  in  a  pair  of  tight  little  slippers 
with  high  heels,  to  give  them  welcome.  She  had  thrown  a  black 
mantle  over  her,  above  a  white  neglige,  not  indeed  superstitiously 
clean,  but  which,  for  that  very  reason,  gave  her  a  more  frank  and 
domestic  air.  Her  short  dress  did  not  hide  a  pair  of  the  prettiest  feet 
and  ankles  in  the  world. 

"You  are  welcome,"  she  cried  to  Wilhelm,  "and  I  thank  you  for 
your  charming  flowers."  She  led  him  into  her  chamber  with  the  one 
hand,  pressing  the  nosegay  to  her  breast  with  the  other.  Being  all 
seated,  and  got  into  a  pleasant  train  of  general  talk,  to  which  she  had 
the  art  of  giving  a  delightful  turn,  Laertes  threw  a  handful  of  ginger- 
bread-nuts into  her  lap,  and  she  immediately  began  to  eat  them. 

"  Look  what  a  child  this  young  gallant  is  I"  she  said  :  "  he  wants 
to  persuade  you  that  I  am  fond  of  such  confectionery  ;  and  it  is  him- 
self that  cannot  live  without  licking  his  lips  over  something  of  the 
kind." 


74  MEISTER'S  APPRfJNTIGESHIP. 

"  Let  us  confess,"  replied  Laertes,  "  that  in  this  point,  as  in  others, 
you  and  I  go  hand  in  hand.  For  example,"  he  continued,  "  the 
weather  is  delightful  to-day  :  what  if  we  should  take  a  drive  into  the 
f  country,  and  eat  our  dinner  at  the  Mill'? " 

"With  all  ray  heart,"  said  Piiilina ;  "we  must  give  our  new  ac- 
quaintance some  diversion." 

Laertes  sprang  out,  for  he  never  walked  ;  and  Wilhelm  motioned 
to  return  for  a  minute  to  his  lodgings,  to  have  his  hair  put  in  order  ; 
for  at  present  it  was  all  disheveled  with  riding.  "  You- can  do  it 
here  !  "  she  said  ;  then  called  her  little  servant,  and  constrained  Wil- 
helm in  the  politest  manner  to  lay  off  his  coat,  to  throw  her  powder- 
mantle  over  him,  and  to  have  his  head  dressed  in  her  presence.  "  W^e 
must  lose  no  time,"  said  she :  "who  knows  how  short  a  while  we 
may  all  be  together  ?  " 

The  boy,  out  of  sulkiness  and  ill-nature  more  than  want  of  skill, 
went  on  but  indifferently  with  his  task  ;  he  pulled  the  hair  with  his 
implements,  and  seemed  as  if  he  would  not  soon  be  done.  Philina 
more  than  once  reproved  him  for  his  blunders,  and  at  last  sharply 
packed  him  off,  and  chased  him  to  the  door.  She  then  undertook  the 
business  herself,  and  frizzled  W^ilhelm's  locks  with  great  dexterity 
and  grace  ;  though  she  too  appeared  to  be  in  no  exceeding  haste,  but 
found  always  this  and  that  to  improve  «nd  put  to  rights;  while  at 
the  same  time  she  could  not  help  touching  his  knees  with  hers,  and 
holding  her  nosegay  and  bosom  so  near  his  lips  that  he  was  strqpgly 
tempted  more  than  once  to  imprint  a  kiss  on  it. 

When  Wilhelm  had  cleaned  his  brow  with  a  little  powder-knife, 
she  said  to  him  :  "  Put  it  in  your  pocket,  and  think  of  me  when  you 
see  it."  It  was  a  pretty  knife  :  the  haft,  of  inlaid  steel,  had  these 
friendly  words  Avrought  on  it,  Think  of  me.  W' ilhelm  put  it  up,  and 
thanked  her,  begging  permission  at  the  same  time  to  make  her  a  lit- 
tle present  in  return. 

At  last  they  were  in  readiness.  Laertes  had  brought  round  the 
coach,  and  they  commenced  a  very  gay  excursion.  To  every  beggar 
Philina  threw  out  money  from  the  window,  giving  along  with  it  a 
merry  and  friendly  word. 

Scarcely  had  they  reached  the  Mill,  and  ordered  dinner,  when  a 
strain  of  music  struck  up  before  tlie  house.  It  was  some  miners  sing- 
ing various  pretty  songs,  and  accompanj'ing  their  clear  and  shrill 
voices  witli  a  citliern  and  triangle.  In  a  short  while  the  gathering 
crowd  had  formed  a  ring  about  them  ;  and  our  company  nodded  ap- 
probation to  them  from  the  windows.  Observing  this  attention,  they 
expanded  their  circle,  and  seemed  making  preparation  for  their  grand- 
est piece.  After  some  pause,  a  miner  stepped  forward  with  a  mattock 
in  his  hand  ;  and  while  the  others  played  a  serious  tune,  he  set  him- 
self to  represent  the  at-tion  of  digging. 

Ere  long  a  peasant  came  from  among  the  crowd,  and  by  pantomimic 
threat  let  the  former  know  that  he  must  cease  and  remove,    Our  com- 


BOOK  11.  CHAPTER  IV.  75 

pany  were  greatly  surprised  at  this  ;  tliey  did  not  discover  that  the 
peasant  was  a  miner  in  disguise  ;  till  he  opened  his  mouth,  and  in  a 
sort  of  recitative,  rebuked  the  other  for  daring  to  meddle  with  his 
field.  The  latter  did  not  lose  his  composure  of  mind,  but  began  to 
inform  the  husbandman  about  his  right  to  break  ground  there,  giving 
him  withal  some  primary  conceptions  of  mineralogy.  The  peasant 
not  being  master  of  his  foreign  terminology,  asked  all  manner  of  silly 
questions  :  whereat  the  spectators,  as  themselves  more  knowing,  set 
up  many  a  hearty  laugh.  The  miner  endeavored  to  instruct  him  ; 
and  showed  him  the  advantage  which,  in  the  long  run,  would  reach 
even  him,  if  the  deep-lying  treasures  of  the  land  were  dug  out  from 
their  secret  beds.  The  peasant,  who  at  first  had  threatened  his  in- 
structor with  blows,  was  gradually  pacified,  and  they  parted  good 
friends  at  last  ;  though  it  was  the  miner  chiefly  that  got  out  of  this 
contention  with  honor. 

"  In  this  little  dialogue,"  said  Wilhelm,  when  seated  at  table,  "  we 
have  a  lively  proof  how  useful  the  theater  might  be  to  all  ranks  ;  v>'hat 
advantage  even  the  State  might  procure  from  it,  if  tlie  occupations, 
trades  and  undertakings  of  men  were  brought  upon  the  stage  ;  and 
presented  on  their  praiseworthy  side,  in  that  point  of  view  in  which 
the  State  itself  should  honor  and  protect  them.  As  matters  stand, 
we  exhibit  only  the  ridiculous  side  of  men  ;  the  comic  poet  is,  as  it 
were,  but  a  spiteful  tax-gatherer,  who  keeps  a  watchful  eye  over  the 
errors  of  his  fellow-subjects,  and  seems  gratified  when  he  can  fix  any 
charge  upon  them.  Might  it  not  be  a  worthy  and  pleasing  task  for  a 
statesman  to  survey  the  natural  and  reciprocal  influence  of  all  classes 
on  each  other,  and  to  guide  some  poet,  gifted  with  sufficient  humor, 
in  such  labors  as  these  ?  In  tliis  way  I  am  persuaded,  many  very  en- 
tertaining, both  agreeable  and  useful  pieces,  might  be  executed." 

"  So  far,"  said  Laertes,  "as  I,  in  wandering  about  the  world,  have 
been  able  to  observe,  statesmen  are  accustomed  merely  to  forbid,  to 
hinder,  to  refuse  ;  but  very  rarely  to  invite,  to  further,  to  reward. 
They  let  all  things  go  along,  till  some  mischief  happens  ;  then  they 
get  into  a  rage,  and  lay  about  them." 

"  A  truce  with  state  and  statesman  ! "  said  Philina  ;  "  I  cannot  form 
a  notion  of  statesmen  except  in  periwigs  ;  and  a  periwig,  wear  it  who 
will,  always  gives  my  fingers  a  spasmodic  motion  ;  I  could  like  to 
pluck  it  off  the  venerable  gentleman,  and  skip  up  and  down  the  room 
with  it,  and  laugh  at  the  bald  head." 

So,  with  a  few  lively  songs,  which  she  could  sing  very  beautifully, 
Philina  cut  short  their  conversation  ;  and  urged  them  to  a  quick  re- 
turn hom.ewards,  that  they  might  arrive  in  time  to  see  the  perform- 
ance of  the  rope-dancers  in  the  evening.  On  the  road  back  she  con- 
tinued her  lavish  generositj'j  in  a  style  of  gayety  reaching  to  extrava- 
gance ;  for,  at  last,  every  coin  belonging  to  herself  or  her  companions 
being  spent,  she  threw  her  straw  hat  from  the  window  to  a  girl,  and 
her  neckerchief  to  an  old  woman,  who  asked  her  for  alms. 


-76  MEISTER' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Pliilina  invited  both  of  her  attendants  to  her  own  apartments  ;  be- 
cause, she  said,  the  spectacle  could  be  seen  more  conveniently  from 
her  windows  than  from  theirs. 

On  arriving,  they  found  the  stage  set  up,  and  the  background 
decked  with  suspended  carpets.  The  swing-boards  were  already 
fastened,  the  slack-rope  fixed  to  posts,  the  tight-rope  bound  over 
trestles.  The  square  was  moderately  filled  with  people,  and  the  win- 
dows with  spectators  of  some  quality. 

Pickleherring,  with  a  few  insipidities,  at  which  the  lookers-on  are 
generally  kind  enough  to  laugh,  first  prepared  the  meeting  to  at- 
tention and  good  humor.  Some  children,  whose  bodies  were  made 
to  exhibit  the  strangest  contortions,  awakened  astonishment  or  hor- 
ror ;  and  Wilhelm  could  not,  without  the  deepest  sympathy,  see  the 
child  he  had  at  the  first  glance  felt  an  interest  in,  go  through  her 
fantastic  positions  with  considerable  difficulty.  But  the  merry  tum- 
blers soon  changed  the  feeling  into  that  of  lively  satisfaction,  when 
they  first  singly,  then  in  rows,  and  at  last  all  together,  vaulted  up 
into  the  air,  making  somersets  backwards  and  forwards.  A  loud  clap- 
ping of  hands  and  a  strong  huzzah  echoed  from  the  whole  assembly. 

The  general  attention  was  next  directed  to  quite  a  different  object. 
The  children  in  succession  had  to  mount  the  rope  ;  the  learners  first, 
that  by  practicing  they  might  prolong  the  spectacle,  and  show  the 
difficulties  of  the  art  more  clearly.  Some  men  and  full-grown  women 
likewise  exhibited  their  skill  to  moderate  advantage';  but  still  there 
was  no  Monsieur  Narciss,  no  Demoiselle  Landrinette.  . 

At  last  the  worthy  pair  came  forth  ;  they  issued  from  a  kind  of 
tent  with  red  spread  curtains  ;  and,  by  their  agreeable  forms  and 
glittering  decorations,  fulfilled  the  hitherto  increasing  hopes  of  the 
spectators.  He,  a  hearty  knave,  of  middle  stature,  with  black  eyes 
and  a  strong  head  of  hair  ;  she,  formed  with  not  inferior  symmetry, 
exhibited  themselves  successively  upon  the  rope,  with  delicate  move- 
ments, leaping,  and  singular  postures.  Her  airj'  lightness  ;  his 
audacity  ;  the  exactitude  with  which  they  both  performed  their  feats 
of  art,  raised  the  universal  satisfaction  higher  at  every  step  and 
spring.  The  stateliness  with  which  they  bore  themselves,  the  seem- 
ing attentions  of  the  rest  to  them,  gave  them  the  appearance  of  king 
and  queen  of  the  whole  troup,  and  all  held  them  worthy  of  the 
rank. 

The  animation  of  the  people  extended  itself  to  the  spectators  at  the 
windows  ;  the  ladies  looked  incessantly  at  Narciss,  the  gentlemen  at 
Landrinette.  The  populace  hurrahed,  the  more  cultivated  public  could 
not  keep  from  clapping  of  the  hands  ;  Pickleherring  now  could 
scarcely  raise  a  laugh.  A  few,  however,  slunk  away,  when  some 
members  of  the  troup  began  to  press  through  the  crowd  with  their  tin 
plates  to  collect  money. 

"They  have  made  their  purpose  good,  I  imagine,"  said  Wilhelm  to 
Philina,  who  was  leaning  over  the  window  beside  him.     "  I  admire 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  IV.  77 

the  ingenuity  with  which  they  have  turned  to  advantage  even  the 
meanest  parts  of  their  performance  ;  out  of  the  unskillfulness  of 
their  children,  and  exquisiteness  of  their  chief  actors,  they  have  made 
up  a  whole  which  at  first  excited  our  attention,  and  then  gave  us  very 
fine  entertainment." 

The  people  by  degrees. dispersed,  and  the  square  was  again  hecome 
empty,  while  Philinaand  Laertes  were  disputing  about  the  forms  and 
the  skill  of  Narciss  and  Landrinette,  and  rallying  each  other  on  the 
subject  at  great  length.  Wilhelm  noticed  the  wonderful  child  stand- 
ing on  the  street  near  some  other  children  at  play  ;  he  showed  her 
to  Philina,  wlio,  in  her  lively  way,  immediately  called  and  beckoned 
to  the  little  one,  and,  this  not  succeeding,  tripped  singing  downstairs, 
and  led  her  up  by  the  hand. 

"  Here  is  the  enigma,"  said  she,  as  she  brought  her  to  the  door. 
The  child  stood  upon  the  threshold,  as  if  she  meant  again  to  run  off  ; 
laid  her  right  hanfi  on  her  breast,  the  left  on  her  brow,  and  bowed 
deeply.  "Fear  nothing,  my  little  dear,"  said  Wilhelm,  rising  and 
going  towards  her.  She  viewed  him  with  a  doubting  look,  and  came 
a  few  steps  nearer. 

"  What  is  thy  name  ?  "  he  asked.  "  They  call  me  Mignon."  "  How 
old  art  thou?"  "No  one  has  counted."  "  Who  was  thy  father  ?  " 
"  The  Great  Devil  is  dead." 

"  Well  !  this  is  singular  enough,"  said  Philina.  They  asked  her  a 
few  more  questions  ;  she  gave  her  answers  in  a  kind  of  broken  Ger- 
man, and  with  a  strangely  solemn  manner,  every  time  laying  her 
hands  on  her  breast  and  brow,  and  bowing  deeply. 

Wilhelm  could  not  satisfy  himself  with  looking  at  her.  His  eyes 
and  his  heart  were  irresistibly  attracted  by  the  mysterious  condition 
of  this  being.  He  reckoned  her  about  twelve  or  thirteen  years  of 
age  ;  her  body  was  well  formed,  only  her  limbs  gave  promise  of  a 
stronger  growth,  or  else  announced  a  stunted  one.  Her  countenance 
was  not  regular,  but  striking  ;  her  brow  full  of  mystery  ;  her  nose 
extremely  beautiful  ;  her  mouth,  although  it  seemed  too  closely  shut 
for  one  of  her  age,  and  though  she  often  threw  it  to  a  side,  had  yet 
an  air  of  frankness,  and  was  very  lovely.  Her  brownish  complexion 
could  scarcely  be  discerned  through  the  paint.  This  form  stamped 
itself  deeply  in  Wilhelm's  soul;  he  kept  looking  at  her  earnestly, 
and  forgot  the  present  scene  in  the  multitude  of  his  reflections.  Phi- 
lina waked  him  from  his  half- dream,  by  holding  out  the  remainder 
of  her  sweetmeats  to  the  child,  and  giving  her  a  sign  to  go  away.  She 
made  her  little  bow  as  formerly,  and  darted  like  lightning  through 
the  door. 

As  the  time  drew  on  when  our  new  friends  had  to  part  for  the 
evening,  they  planned  a  fresh  excursion  for  the  morrow.  They  pur- 
posed, now  to  have  their  dinner  at  a  neighboring  Jagerhaus.  Before 
taking  leave  of  Laertes,  Wilhelm  said  many  things  in  Philina's 
praise,  to  which  the  other  made  only  brief  and  careless  answers. 


78  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Next  morning,  having  once  more  exercised  themselves  in  fencing 
tor  an  hour,  they  went  over  to  Philina's  lodging,  towards  which  they 
had  seen  their  expected  coach  passing  by.  But  how  surprised  was 
VVilhelm,  when  the  coach  seemed  altogether  to  have  vanished  ;  and 
how  much  more  so,  when  Philiua  was  not  to  be  found  at  home  !  She 
had  placed  herself  in  the  carriage,  they  were  told,  with  a  couple  of 
strangers  who  had  come  that  morning,  and  was  gone  with  them. 
Wilhelm  had  been  promising  himself  some  pleasant  entertainment 
from  her  company,  and  could  not  hide  his  irritation.  liaeretes,  on 
the  other  liand,  had  laughed  at  it,  and  cried  :  "I  love  her  for  this  : 
it  looks  so  like  herself  !  Let  us,  however,  go  directly  to  the  Jager- 
haus  :  be  Philina  where  she  pleases,  we  will  not  lose  our  promenade 
on  her  account. 

As  Wilhelm,  while  they  walked,  continued  censuring  the  incon- 
sistency of  such  conduct,  Laertes  said  :  "  I  cannot  reckon  it  incon- 
sistent so  long  as  one  keeps  faithful  to  his  character.  If  this  Philina 
plans  you  anything,  or  promises  you  anything,  she  does  it  under  the 
tacit  condition  that  it  shall  be  quite  convenient  for  her  to  fulfill  her 
plan,  to  keep  her  promise.  She  gives  willingly  ;  but  you  must  ever 
hold  yourself  in  readiness  to  return  her  gifts." 

"That  seems  a  singular  character,"  said  Wilhelm. 

"  Anything  but  singular  ;  only  she  is  not  a  hypocrite.  I  like  her 
on  that  account.  Yes,  I  am  her  friend,  because  she  represents  the 
sex  so  truly,  which  I  have  so  much  cause  to  hate.  To  me  she  is  an- 
other genuine  Eve,  the  great  mother  of  womankind  ;  so  are  they  all, 
only  they  will  not  all  confess  it." 

With  abundance  of  such  talk,  in  which  Laertes  very  vehemently 
exhibited  his  spleen  against  the  fair  sex,  without,  however,  giving 
any  cause  for  it,  they  arrived  at  the  forest  ;  into  which  Wilhelm  en- 
tered in  no  joyful  mood,  the  speeches  of  Laertes  having  again  revived 
in  him  the  memory  of  his  relation  to  Mariana.  Not  far  from  a  shady 
well,  among  some  old  and  noble  trees,  they  found  Philina  sitting  by 
herself  at  a  stone  table.  Seeing  them,  she  struck  up  a  merry  song  ; 
and,  when  Laertes  asked  for  her  companions,  she  cried  out  :  *'  I  have 
already  cozened  them,  I  have  already  had  my  laugh  at  them,  and  sent 
them  a-traveling,  as  they  deserved.  By  the  way  hither  I  had  put  to 
proof  their  liberality  ;  and  finding  that  they  were  a  couple  of  your  close- 
fisted  gentry,  I  immediately  determined  to  have  amends  of  them.  On 
arriving  at  the  inn,  they  asked  the  waiter  what  was  to  be  had.  He,  with 
his  customary  glibuess  of  tongue,  reckoned  overall  that  could  be  found 
in  the  house,  and  more  than  could  be  found.  I  noticed  their  perplexity  ; 
they  looked  at  one  another,  stammered,  and  inquired  about  the  cost. 
'  What  is  the  use  of  all  this  studying  ? '  said  I  ;  '  the  table  is  the  lady's 
business,  allow  me  to  manage  it.'  I  immediately  began  ordering  a 
most  unconscionable  dinner  ;  for  which  many  necessary  articles 
would  require  to  be  sent  for  from  the  neighborhood.  The  waiter,  of 
whom,  by  a  wry  mouth  or  two,  I  liad  made  a  confidant,  at  last  helped 


BOOK  11.   CHAPTER  IV.  79 

me  out  ;  and  so,  by  the  image  of  a  sumptuous  feast,  we  tortured  tliem 
to  such  a  degree  that  they  fairly  determined  on  having  a  walk  in  the 
forest,  from  which  I  imagine  we  shall  look  with  clear  eyes  if  we 
see  them  come  back.  I  have  laughed  a  quarter  of  an  hour  for  my 
own  behoof  ;  I  shall  laugh  forever  when  I  think  of  the  looks  they 
had."  At  table,  Laertes  told  of  similar  adventures  :  they  got  into 
the  track  of  recounting  ludicrous  stories,  mistakes  and  dexterous 
cheats. 

A  young  man,  of  their  acquaintance  from  the  town,  came  gliding 
through  the  wood  with  a  book  in  his  hand  ;  he  sat  down  by  them, 
and  began  praising  the  beauty  of  the  place.  He  directed  their 
attention  to  the  murmuring  of  the  brook,  to  the  waving  of  the 
boughs,  to  the  checkered  lights  and  shadows,  and  the  music  of  the 
birds.  Philiua  commenced  a  little  song  of  the  cuckoo,  which  did 
not  seem  at  all  to  exhilarate  the  man  of  taste  :  he  very  soon  made 
his  compliments  and  went  on. 

"  O  that  I  might  never  hear  more  of  nature,  and  scenes  of  nature  ! " 
cried  Philina  as  soon  as  he  was  gone:  "there  is  nothing  in  the 
world  more  intolerable  than  to  hear  people  reckon  up  the  pleasures 
you  enjoy.  When  the  day  is  bright  you  go  to  walk,  as  to  dance 
when  you  hear  a  tune  played.  But  who  would  think  a  moment  on 
the  music  or  the  weather?  It  is  the  dancer  that  interests  us,  not  the 
violin  ;  and  to  look  upon  a  pair  of  bright  black  eyes  is  the  life  of  a 
pair  of  blue  ones.  But  what  on  earth  have  we  to  do  with  wells,  and 
brooks,  and  old  rotten  lindens?"  She  was  sitting  opposite  to  Wil- 
helm,  and  while  speaking  so,  she  looked  into  his  eyes  with  a  glance 
which  he  could  not  hinder  from  piercing  at  least  to  the  very  door  of 
his  heart. 

"You  are  right,"  replied  he,  not  without  embarrassment;  "man 
is  ever  the  most  interesting  object  to  man,  and  perhaps  should  be 
the  only  one  that  interests.  Whatever  else  surrounds  us  is  but  the  i 
eleinent  in  which  we  live,  or  else  the  instrument  which  we  employ.  I 
The  more  we  devote  ourselves  to  such  things,  the  more  we  attend  to 
and  feel  concern  in  them,  the  weaker  will  our  sense  of  our  own  dig- 
nity become,  the  weaker  our  feelings  for  society.  Men  who  put  a 
great  value  on  gardens,  buildings,  clothes,  ornaments,  or  any  other 
sort  of  property,  grow  less  social  and  pleasant ;  they  lose  sight  of 
their  brethren,  whom  very  few  can  succeed  in  collecting  about  them 
and  entertaining.  Have  you  not  observed  it  on  the  stage?  A  good 
actor  makes  us  very  soon  forget  the  awkwardness  and  meanness  of 
paltry  decorations  ;  but  a  splendid  theater  is  the  very  thing  which 
first  makes  us  truly  feel  the  want  of  proper  actors." 

After  dinner  Philina  sat  down  among  the  long  overshaded  grass, 
and  commanded  both  her  friends  to  fetch  her  flowers  in  great  quan- 
tities. She  wreathed  a  complete  garland,  and  put  it  round  her 
head  :  it  made  her  look  extremely  charming.  The  flowers  were  still 
SuflBcient  for  another  ;  this  too  she  plaited,  while  both  the  young  men 


80  MEISTER'8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

sat  beside  her.  When  at  last,  amid  infinite  mirth  and  sportfulness, 
it  was  completed,  she  pressed  it  on  Wilhelm's  head  with  the  greatest 
dignity,  and  shifted  the  posture  of  it  more  than  once  till  it  seemed 
to  her  properly  adjusted.  "  And  I,  it  appears,  must  go  empty,"  said 
Laertes. 

"  Not  by  any  means  ;  you  shall  not  have  good  reason  to  complain," 
replied  Philina,  taking  off  the  garland  from  her  own  head  and  put- 
ting it  on  his. 

"  If  we  were  rivals,"  said  Laertes,  "  we  might  now  dispute  very 
warmly  which  of  us  stood  higher  in  thy  favor." 

"  And  the  more  fools  you,"  said  she,  while  she  bent  herself 
towards  him,  and  offered  him  her  lips  to  kiss  ;  and  then  immediately 
turned  round,  threw  her  arm  about  Wilhelm,  and  bestowed  a  kind 
salute  on  him  also.     "  Which  of  them  tastes  best?"  said  she  archly. 

"  Surprisingly  ! "  exclaimed  Laertes  :  "  it  seems  as  if  nothing  else 
bad  ever  such  a  tang  of  wormwood  in  it." 

"  As  little  wormwood,"  she  replied,  "  as  any  gift  that  a  man  may 
enjoy  without  envy  and  without  conceit".  But  now,"  cried  she,  "I 
should  like  to  have  an  hour's  dancing,  and  after  that  we  must  look 
to  our  vaulters." 

Accordingly  they  went  into  the  house,  and  there  found  music  in 
readiness.  Philina  was  a  beautiful  dancer,  she  animated  both  her 
companions.v  Nor  was  Wilhelm  without  skill  ;  but  he  wanted  care- 
ful practice,  a  defect  which  his  two  friends  voluntarily  took  charge 
of  remedying. 

In  these  amusements  the  time  passed  on  insensibly  ;  it  was  already 
late  when  they  returned.  The  rope-dancers  had  commenced  their 
operations.  A  multitude  of  people  had  again  assembled  in  the 
square  ;  and  our  friends,  on  alighting,  were  struck  by  the  appear- 
ance of  a  tumult  iu  the  crowd,  occasioned  by  a  throng  of  men  rush- 
ing towards  the  door  of  the  inn,  which  Wilhelm  had  now  turned  his 
face  to.  He  sprang  forward  to  see  what  it  was  ;  and  pressing  tlirough 
the  people,  he  was  struck  with  horror  to  observe  the  master  of  the 
rope-dancing  company  dragging  poor  Mignon  by  the  hair  out  of  the 
house,  and  unmercifully  beating  her  little  body  with  the  handle  of  a 
whip 

Wilhelm  darted  on  the  man  like  lightning,  and  seized  him  by  the 
collar.  "  Quit  the  child  !"  he  cried  in  a  furious  tone,  "or  one  of  us 
shall  never  leave  this  spot  ;"  and  so  speaking,  he  grasped  the  fellow 
by  the  throat  with  a  force  which  only  rage  could  have  lent  him.  The 
showman,  on  the  point  of  choking,  let  go  the  child,  and  endeavored  to 
defend  himself  against  his  new  assailant.  But  some  people,  who  had 
felt  compassion  for  Jlignon,  yet  had  not  dared  to  begin  a  quarrel 
for  her,  now  laid  hold  of  the  rope-dancer,  wrenched  his  whip  away, 
and  threatened  him  with  great  fiercen(>ss  and  abuse.  Being  now  re- 
duced to  the  weapons  of  his  mouth,  he  began  bullying  and  cursing 
horribly  :  the  lazy,  worthless  urchin,  he  said,  would  not  do  her  duty; 


BOOK  11.  CHAPTER  IV.  81 

refused  to  perform  tlie  egg-dance,  which  he  had  promised  to  the  pub- 
lic ;  he  would  beat  her  to  death,  and  no  one  should  hinder  him.  He 
tried  to  get  loose,  and  seek  the  child,  who  had  crept  away  among  the 
crowd.  Wilhelm  held  him  back,  and  said  sternly:  "You  shall 
neither  see  nor  touch  her,  till  you  have  explained  before  a  magistrate 
where  you  stole  her.  I  will  pursue  you  to  every  extremity  ;  you  shall 
not  escape  me."  These  words,  wdiich  Wilhelm  uttered  in  heat,  with- 
out thought  or  purpose,  out  of  some  vague  feeling,  or,  if  you  will, 
out  of -inspiration,  soon  brought  the  raging  showman  to  composure. 
"What  have  I  to  do  with  the  useless  brat?  "cried  he.  "  Pay  me 
what  her  clothes  cost,  and  make  of  her  what  you  please  ;  we  shall 
settle  it  to-night."  And,  being  liberated,  he  made  haste  to  resume 
his  interrupted  operations,  and  to  calm  the  irritation  of  the  public  by 
some  striking  displays  of  his  craft. 

So  soon  as  all  was  still  again,  Wilhelm  commenced  a  seai'ch  for 
Mignon,  whom,  however,  he  could  nowhere  find.  Some  said  they 
had  seen  her  on  the  street,  others  on  the  roofs  of  adjoining  houses  ; 
but,  after  seeking  unsuccessfully  in  all  quarters,  he  was  forced  to 
content  himself,  and  wait  to  see  if  she  would  not  again  turn  up  of 
herself. 

In  the  meantime,  Narciss  had  come  into  the  house,  and  Wilhelm 
set  to  question  him  about  the  birthplace  and  history  of  the  child. 
Monsieur  Narciss  knew  nothing  about  these  things  ;  for  he  had  not 
long  been  in  the  company  ;  but  in  return  he  recited,  with  much  volu- 
bility and  levity,  various  particulars  of  his  own  fortune.  Upon  Wil- 
helm's  wishing  him  joy  of  the  great  approbation  he  had  gained, 
Narciss  expressed  himself  as  if  exceedingly  indifferent  on  that  point. 
"People  laugh  at  us,"  he  said,  "and  admire  our  feats  of  skill  ;  but 
their  admiration  does  nothing  for  us.  The  master  has  to  pay  us,  and 
may  raise  the  funds  where  he  pleases."  He  then  took  his  leave,  and 
was  setting  off  in  great  haste. 

At  the  question.  Whither  he  was  bent  so  fast  ?  the  dog  gave  a  smile, 
and  admitted  that  his  figure  and  talents  had  acquired  for  him  a  more 
solid  species  of  favor  than  the  huzzahing  of  the  multitude.  He  had 
been  invited  by  some  young  ladies,  who  desired  much  to  become 
acquainted  with  him,  and  he  was  afraid  it  would  be  midnight  before 
he  could  get  all  his  visits  over.  He  proceeded  with  the  greatest  can- 
dor to  detail  liis  adventures  ;  he  would  have  given  the  names  of  his 
patronesses,  their  streets  and  houses,  had  not  Wilhelm  waved  such 
indiscretion,  and  politely  dismissed  him. 

Laertes  had  meanwhile  been  entertaining  Landrinette  :  he  declared 
that  she  was  fully  worthy  to  be  and  to  remain  a  woman. 

Our  friend  next  proceeded  to  his  bargain  with  the  showman  for 
Mignon.  Thirty  crowns  was  the  price  set  upon  her  ;  and  for  this 
sum  the  black-bearded  hot  Italian  entirely  surrendered  all  his  claims  ; 
but  of  her  history,  or  parentage,  he  would  discover  nothing  ;  only 
that  she  had  fallen  into  his  hands  at  the  death  of  his  brother,  who, 


82  MEISTER'S  APPIiENTIC'ESHJP. 

by  reason  of  liis  admirable  skill,  had  usually  been  named  the  Great 
Devil. 

Next  morning  was  chiefly  spent  in  searching  for  the  child.  It  was 
in  vain  that  they  rummaged  every  hole  and  corner  of  the  house  and 
neighborhood  :  the  child  had  vanished,  and  Wilhelm  was  afraid  she 
might  have  leapt  into  some  pool  of  water,  or  destroyed  herself  in 
some  other  way. 

Philina's  charms  could  not  dissipate  his  inquietude  ;  he  passed  (i 
dreary  thoughtful  day.  Nor  at  evening  could  the  utmost  efforts  ol' 
the  tumblers  and  dancers,  exerting  all  their  powers  to  gratify  the 
public,  divert  the  current  of  his  thoughts,  or  clear  away  the  clouds 
from  his  mind. 

By  the  concourse  of  people  flocking  from  all  places  round,  the  num- 
bers had  greatly  increased  on  this  occasion  ;  the  general  approbation 
was  like  a  snowball  rolling  itself  into  a  monstrous  size.  The  feat  of 
leaping  over  swords,  and  through  the  cask  with  paper  ends,  made  a 
great  sensation.  The  strong  man,  too,  produced  a  universal  feeling 
of  mingled  astonishment  and  horror,  when  he  laid  his  head  and  feet 
on  a  couple  of  separate  stools,  and  then  allowed  some  sturdy  smiths 
to  place  a  stithy  on  the  unsupported  part  of  his  body,  and  hammer  a 
horse  shoe  till  it  was  completely  made  by  means  of  it. 

The  Hercules's  strength,  as  they  called  it,  was  a  no  less  wonderful 
affair.  A  row  of  men  stood  up  ;  then  another  row,  upon  their  shoul- 
ders ;  then  women  and  young  lads,  supported  in  like  manner  on  the 
second  row  ;  so  that  finally  a  living  pyramid  was  formed,  the  peak 
being  ornamented  by  a  child,  placed  on  its  head,  and  dressed  out  in  the 
shape  of  a  ball  and  weather-vane.  Such  a  sight,  never  witnessed  in 
those  parts  before,  gave  a  worthy  termination  to  the  whole  perform- 
ance. Narciss  and  Landrinette  were  then  borne  in  litters,  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  rest,  along  the  chief  streets  of  the  town,  amid  the 
triumphant  shouts  of  the  people.  Ribbons,  nosegays,  silks,  were 
thrown  upon  them  ;  all  pressed  to  get  a  sight  of  them.  Each  thought 
himself  happy  if  he  could  behold  them,  and  be  honored  with  a  look 
of  theirs. 

"  What  actor,  what  author,  nay  what  man  of  any  c\ass,  would  not 
regard  himself  as  on  the  summit  of  his  wishes,  could  he,  by  a  noble 
saying  or  a  worthy  action,  produce  so  universal  an  impression  V  What 
a  precious  emotion  would  it  give,  if  one  could  disseminate  generous, 
exalted,  manly  feelings  with  electric  force  and  speed,  and  rouse  assem- 
bled thousands  into  such  rapture,  as  these  people,  by  their  bodily 
alertness,  have  done  !  If  one  could  communicate  to  thronging  multi- 
tudes a  fellow-feeling  in  all  that  belongs  to  man,  by  the  portraying  of 
happiness  and  mLsery,  of  wisdom  and  folly,  nay  of  absurdity  and 
silliness  ;  could  kindle  and  thrill  their  inmost  souls,  and  set  their 
stagnant  nature  into  movement,  free,  vehement  and  ])ure  !  "  So  said 
our  friend  :  and  as  neither  Laertes  nor  Philiua  showed  any  disposition 
to  take  part  in  such  a  strain,  he  entertaincjd  himself  with  these  dar- 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  V.  83 

ling  speculations,  walking  up  and  down  tlie  streets  till  late  at  night, 
and  again  pursuing,  with  all  the  force  and  vivacity  of  a  liberated 
imagination,  his  old  desire  to  have  all  that  was  good  and  noble  and 
great  embodied  and  shown  forth  by  the  theatric  j,rt. 


CHAPTER  V. 


Next  morning,  the  rope-dancers,  not  without  much  parade  and  bus- 
tle, having  gone  away,  Mignon  immediately  appeared,  and  came  into 
the  parlor  as  Wilhelm  and  Laertes  were  busy  fencing.  "  Where  hast 
thou  been  hid  ?  "  said  Wilhelm  in  a  friendly  tone.  ' '  Thou  hast  given  us 
a  deal  of  anxiety."  The  child  looked  at  him,  and  answered  nothing. 
"  Thou  art  ours  now,"  cried  Laertes,  "  we  have  bought  thee."  "For 
how  much '? "  inquired  the  child  quite  coolly.  "  For  a  hundred  duc- 
ats," said  the  other  ;  "  pay  them  again,  and  thou  art  free."  "  Is  that 
very  much?  "  she  asked.  "  O  yes  !  thou  must  now  be  a  good  child." 
"  I  will  try,"  she  said. 

From  that  moment  she  observed  strictly  what  services  the  waiter 
had  to  do  for  both  Jier  friends  :  and  after  next  day,  she  would  not 
any  more  let  him  enter  the  room.  She  persisted  in  doing  everything 
herself  ;  and  accordingly  went  through  her  duties,  slowly  indeed,  and 
sometimes  awkwardly,  yet  completely  and  with  the  greatest  care. 

She  was  frequently  observed  going  to  a  basin  of  water,  and  Avashing 
her  face  with  such  diligence  and  violence,  that  she  almost  wore  the 
skin  from  her  cheeks  ;  till  Laertes,  by  dint  of  questions  and  reproofs, 
learned  that  she  Avas  striving  by  all  means  to  get  the  paint  from  her 
skin  ;  and  that  in  her  zealous  endeavors  towards  this  object,  she  had 
mistaken  the  redness  produced  by  rubbing  for  the  most  obdurate  dye. 
They  set  her  right  on  this  point,  and  she  ceased  her  efforts ;  after 
which,  ha\-ing  come  again  to  her  natural  state,  she  exhibited  a  fine 
brown  complexion,  beautiful,  though  sparingly  intermingled  with 
red. 

The  siren  charms  of  Philina,  the  mysterious  presence  of  the  child, 
produced  more  impression  on  our  friend  than  he  liked  to  confess  ;  he 
passed  several  days  in  that  strange  society,  endeavoring  to  elude  self- 
reproaches  by  a  diligent  practice  of  fencing  and  dancing,  accomplish- 
ments which  he  believed  might  not  again  be  put  within  his  reach  so 
conveniently. 

It  was  with  great  surprise,  and  not  without  a  certain  satisfaction, 
that  he  one  day  observed  Herr  Melina  and  his  wife  alight  at  the  inn. 
After  the  first  glad  salutation,  they  inquired  about  "  the  lady-manager 
and  the  other  actors  ;"  and  learned,  with  astonishment  and  terror, 
that  the  lady -manager  had  long  since  gone  away,  and  her  actors,  to  a 
very  few,  dispersed  thenaselves  about  the  country. 


84  MEISTER'S  APPRENTIGESSlP. 

This  couple,  subsequently  to  their  marriage,  in  which,  aS  we  know, 
our  friend  did  his  best  to  serve  them,  had  been  traveling  about  in 
various  quarters,  seeking  an  engagement,  without  finding  any  ;  and 
had  at  last  been  directed  to  this  little  town  by  some  persons  who  met 
them  on  their  journey,  and  said  there  was  a  good  theater  in  the 
place. 

Melina  by  no  means  pleased  the  lively  Laertes,  when  introduced  to 
him,  any  more  than  his  wife  did  Philina.  Both  heartily  wished  to  be 
rid  of  these  new-comers  ;  and  Wilhelm  could  inspire  them  with  no 
favorable  feelings  on  the  subject,  though  he  more  than  once  assured 
them  that  the  Melinas  were  very  worthy  people. 

Indeed,  the  previous  merry  life  of  our  three  adventurers  was  inter- 
fered with  by  this  extension  of  their  society,  in  more  ways  than  one. 
Melina  had  taken  up  his  quarters  in  the  inn  where  Philina  stayed, 
and  he  very  soon  began  a  system  of  cheapening  and  higgling.  He 
would  have  better  lodging,  more  sumptuous  diet,  and  readier  attend- 
ance, for  a  smaller  charge.  In  a  short  while,  the  landlord  and  waiter 
showed  very  rueful  looks  ;  for  whereas  the  others,  to  get  pleasantly 
along,  had  expressed  no  discontent  with  anything,  and  paid  instantly, 
that  they  might  avoid  thinking  longer  of  payment,  Melina  now  in- 
sisted on  regulating  every  meal,  and  investigating  its  contents  before- 
hand ;  a  species  of  service  for  which  Philina  named  him,  without 
scruple,  a  ruminating  animal. 

Yet  more  did  the  merry  girl  hate  Melina's  wife.  Frau  Melina  was 
a  young  woman  not  without  culture,  but  woefully  defective  in  soul 
and  spirit.  She  could  declaim  not  badly,  and  kept  declaiming  con- 
stantly ;  but  it  was  easy  to  observe  that  her  performances  were  little 
more  tlian  recitations  of  words.  She  labored  a  few  detached  passages, 
but  never  could  express  the  feeling  of  the  whole.  Withal,  however, 
she  was  seldom  disagreeable  to  any  one,  especially  to  men.  On  the 
contrary,  people  who  enjoyed  her  acquaintance  commonly  ascribed  to 
her  a  fine  understanding  ;  for  she  was  what  might  be  called  a  kind  of 
spiritual  chnmeleon,  ov  tnker-on*  Any  friend  whose  favor  she  had 
need  of,  she  could  flatter  with  peculiar  adroitness  ;  could  give  in  to 
his  ideas  so  long  as  she  could  understand  them  ;  and,  when  ihey  went 
beyond  her  own  horizon,  could  hail  with  ecstasy  such  new  and 
brilliant  visions.  She  itnderstood  well  when  to  speak  and  when  to 
keep  silence  ;  and  though  her  disposition  was  not  spiteful,  she  could 
spy  out  with  great  expertness  where  another's  weak  side  lay. 

* Ancmpflnderm  (feeler-by,  fecler-accordinij-to)  is  the  new  imtranslntable  word 
poor!}'  paraphrased  so.  A  new  German  word,  first  used  here,  the  like  of  which 
might  be  useful  in  all  languages,  for  it  desiguatea  a  class  of  persons  extant  in  all 
coimtrieg.— £o. 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  VI  85 


CHAPTER  VI, 

Melina,  in  the  meantime,  had  been  making  strict  inquiry  about 
the  wrecks  of  tlie  late  theatrical  establishment.  The  wardrobe,  as 
well  as  decorations,  had  been  pawned  with  some  traders  ;  and  a  notary 
had  been  empowered,  under  certain  conditions,  to  dispose  of  them  by 
sale,  should  purchasers  occur.  Melina  wished  to  see  this  ware  ;  and 
he  took  Wilhelui  with  him.  No  sooner  was  the  room  opened,  than 
our  friend  felt  towards  its  contents  a  kind  of  inclination,  which  he 
would  not  confess  to  himself.  Sad  as  was  the  state  of  the  blotched 
and  tarnished  decorations  ;  little  showy  as  the  Turkish  and  pagan 
garments,  the  old  farce-coats  for  men  and  women,  the  cowls  for  en- 
chanters, priests  and  Jews,  might  be,  he  was  not  able  to  exclude  the 
feeling,  that  the  happiest  moments  of  his  life  had  been  spent  in  a 
similar  magazine  of  frippery.  Could  Melina  have  seen  into  his  heart, 
he  would  have  urged  him  more  pressingly  to  lay  out  a  sum  of  money 
in  liberating  tliese  scattered  fragments,  in  furbishing  them  up,  and 
again  combining  them  into  a  beautiful  whole.  "  What  a  happy  man 
could  I  be,"  cried  Melina,  "  had  I  but  two  hundred  crowns,  to  get 
into  my  hands,  for  a  beginning,  these  fundamental  necessaries  of  a 
theater  !  How  soon  should  I  get  up  a  little  playhouse,  that  would 
draw  contributions  from  the  town  and  neighborhood,  and  maintain 
us  all  !  "  Wilhelm  v/as  silent.  They  left  these  treasures  of  the  stage 
to  be  again  locked  up,  and  both  went  away  in  a  reflective  mood. 

Thenceforth  Melina  talked  of  nothing  else  but  projects  and  plans 
for  setting  up  a  theater,  and  gaining  profit  by  it.  He  tried  to  interest 
Philina  and  Laertes  in  his  schemes  ;  and  proposals  were  made  to 
Wilhelm  about  advancing  money,  and  taking  them  as  his  security. 
On  this  occasion,  Wilhelm  first  clearly  perceived  that  he  was  linger- 
ing too  long  here  :  he  excused  himself,  and  and  set  about  making 
preparations  for  departure. 

In  the  meantime,  Mignon's  form  and  manner  of  existence  was 
growing  more  attractive  to  him  every  day.  In  her  whole  system  of 
proceedings  there  was  something  very  singular.  She  never  walked 
up  or  down  the  stairs,  but  jumped.  She  would  spring  along  by  the 
railing,  and  before  you  were  aware,  would  be  sitting  quietly  above  on 
the  landing.  Wilhelm  had  observed,  also,  that  she  had  a  different 
sort  of  salutation  for  each  individual.  For  himself,  it  had  of  late 
been  with  her  arms  crossed  upon  her  breast.  Often  for  the  whole  day  - 
she  was  mute,  xlt  times  she  answered  various  questions  more  freely, 
yet  always  strangely  ;  so  that  you  could  not  determine  whether  it  was 
caused  by  shrewd  sense,  or  ignorance  of  the  language  ;  for  she  spoke 
1^1  broken  German,  interlaced  with  French  and  Italian.  In  Wilhelm's 
service  she  was  indefatigable,  and  up  before  the  sun.     On  the  other 


86  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

haDd,  she  vanislied  early  in  the  evening,  went  to  sleep  in  a  little  room 
upon  the  bare  tioor,  and  could  not  by  any  means  be  induced  to  take 
a  bed  or  even  a  palliasse.  He  often  found  her  washing  herself.  Her 
clothes,  too,  were  kept  scrupulously  clean,  though  nearly  all  about 
her  was  two  or  three  plies  thick.  Wilhelm  was  moreover  told  that 
she  went  every  morning  early  to  hear  mass.  He  followed  her  on  one 
occasion,  and  saw  her  kneeling  down  with  a  rosary  in  a  corner  of  the 
church,  and  praying  devoutly.  She  did  not  observe  him  ;  and  he  re- 
turned home,  forming  many  a  conjecture  about  this  appearance,  yet 
unable  to  arrive  at  any  probable  conclusion. 

A  new  application  from  Melina  for  a  sum  of  money  to  redeem  the 
often-mentioned  stage  apparatus,  caused  Wilhehn  to  think  more 
seriously  than  ever  about  setting  off.  He  proposed  writjng  to  his  peo- 
ple, who  for  a  long  time  had  heard  no  tidings  of  him,  by^^e  very  ear- 
liest post.  He  accordingly  commenced  a  letter  to  Werner  ;  and  had 
advanced  a  considerable  way  with  the  history  of  his  adventures,  in 
recounting  which  he  had  more  than  once  unintentionally  swerved  a 
little  from  the  truth,  when,  to  his  vexation  and  surprise,  he  observed, 
upon  the  back  of  his  sheet,  some  verses  which  he  had  been  copying 
from  his  album  for  Madam  Melina.  Out  of  humor  at  this  mistake, 
he  tore  the  paper  in  pieces,  and  put  off  repeating  his  confession  till 
the  next  post-day. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 


OxjK  party  was  now  again  collected  ;  and  Philina,  who  always  kept 
a  sharp  look-out  on  every  horse  or  carriage  that  passetl  by,  exclaimed, 
with  great  eagerness  :  "Our  pedant!  Here  comes  our  dearest  pedant  ! 
*  Who  the  deuce  is  it  he  has  with  him  ?  "  Speaking  thus,  she  beck- 
oned at  the  window,  and  the  vehicle  drew  up. 

A  woeful-looking  genius,  whom,  by  his  shabby  coat  of  grayish  brown, 
^  and  his  ill-conditioned  lower  garments,  you  must  have  taken  for  some 
unprosperous  preceptor,  of  the  sort  that  molder  in  our  universities, 
now  descended  from  the  carriage,  and,  taking  off  his  hat  to  salute 
Philina,  discovered  an  ill-powdered  but  yet  very  stiff  periwig,  while 
Philina  threw  a  hundred  kisses  of  the  hand  towards  him. 

As  Philina's  chief  enjoyment  lay  in  loving  one  class  of  men,  and 
being  loved  by  them  ;  so  there  was  a  second  and  hardly  inferior  satis- 
faction, wherewith  she  entertained  herself  as  frequently  as  possible  ; 
and  this  consisted  in  hoodwinking  and  jmssing  jokes  upon  the  other 
class,  whom  at  such  moments  she  happened  not  to  love  :  all  which 
she  could  accomplish  in  a  very  sprightly  style. 

Amid  the  flourish  which  she  made  in  receiving  this  old  friend,  no 
attention  was  bestowed  upon  the  rest  who  followed  him.  Yet  among 
the  party  were  an  oldish  man  and  two  young  girls,  whom  Wilhelm 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER   VII  87 

thought  he  knew.  Accordingly  it  turned  out,  that  he  had  often  seen 
them  all,  some  years  ago,  in  a  company  then  playing  in  his  native 
town.  The  daughters  had  grown  since  that  period  ;  the  old  man  was 
altered.  He  commonly  enacted  those  good-hearted  boisterous  old  gen- 
tlemen, whom  the  German  theater  is  never  without,  and  whom,  in 
common  life,  one  also  frequently  enough  falls  in  with.  For  as  it  is 
the  character  of  our  countrymen  to  do  good,  and  cause  it,  without 
pomp  or  circumstance,  so  they  seldom  consider  that  there  is  likewise 
a  mode  of  doing  what  is  vight  with  grace  and  dignity  ;  more  fre- 
quently, indeed,  they  yield  to  the  spirit  of  contradiction,  and  fall  into 
the  error  of  deforming  their  dearest  virtue  by  a  surly  mode  of  put- 
ting it  in  practice. 

Such  parts  our  actor  could  play  very  well  ;  and  he  played  them  so 
often  and  exclusively,  that  he  had  himself  taken  up  the  same  turn  of 
proceeding  in  his  ordinary  life. 

On  recognizing  him,  Wilhelm  was  seized  with  a  strong  commotion  : 
he  recollected  how  often  he  had  seen  this  man  on  the  stage  with  his 
beloved  Mariana  :  he  still  heard  him  scolding,  still  heard  the  small 
soothing  voice,  with  which  in  many  characters  she  had  to  meet  his 
rugged  temper. 

The  first  anxious  question  put  to  the  strangers,  Wliether  they  had 
heard  of  any  situation  in  their  travels  ?  was  answered,  alas,  with  No  ; 
and  to  complete  the  information,  it  was  farther  added,  that  all  the 
companies  they  had  fallen  in  with  were  not  only  supplied  with  actors, 
but  many  of  them  were  afraid  lest,  on  account  of  the  approaching 
war,  they  should  be  forced  to  separate.  Old  Boisterous,  with  his 
daughters,  moved  by  spleen  and  love  of  change,  had  given  up  an  ad- 
vantageous engagement  ;  then  meeting  with  the  pedant  by  the  way, 
they  had  hired  a  carriage  to  come  hither  :  where,  as  they  found,  good 
counsel  was  still  dear,  needful  to  have,  and  difficult  to  get. 

The  time  while  the  rest  were  talking  very  keenly  of  their  circum- 
stances, Wilhelm  spent  in  thought,  lie  longed  to  speak  in  private 
with  the  old  man  ;  he  wished  and  feared  to  hear  of  Mariana,  and  felt 
himself  in  the  greatest  disquietude. 

The  pretty  looks  of  the  stranger  damsels  could  not  call  him  from 
his  dream  ;  but  a  war  of  words  which  now  arose,  awakened  his 
attention.  It  was  Friedrich,  the  fair-haired  boy,  who  used  to  attend 
Philina,  stubbornly  refusing,  on  this  occasion,  to  cover  the  table  and 
bring  up  dinner.  "  I  engaged  to  serve  you,"  he  cried  ;  "  but  not  to 
wait  on  everybody."  They  fell  into  a  hot  contest.  Philina  insisted 
that  he  should  do  his  duty  ;  and  as  he  obstinately  refused,  she  told 
him  plainly  he  might  go  about  his  business. 

"  You  think,  perhaps,  I  cannot  leave  you '?"  cried  he,  sturdily  ;  then 
went  to  pack  up  his  bundle,  and  soon  hastily  quitted  the  house. 

"  Go,  Mignon,"  said  Philina,  "  and  get  us  what  we  want  :  tell  the 
waiter,  and  help  him  to  attend  us." 

Mignon  came  before  Wilhelm,  and  asked  in  her  laconic  way  ;  "  Shall 


88  MEISIER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

I?    May  I?"     To  wliicli  Willielin  answered  :  "  Do  all  that  the  lady 
bids  tliee,  child." 

She  accordingly  took  charge  of  everything,  and  waited  on  the 
guests  the  whole  evening,  with  the  utmost  carefulness.  After  dinner, 
Wilhelni  proposed  to  have  a  walk  with  the  old  man  alone.  Succeed- 
ing in  this,  after  many  questions  about  his  late  wanderings,  the  con- 
versation turned  upon  the  former  company,  and  Wilhelm.  hazarded 
a  question  touching  Mariana. 

"Do  not  sj^eak  to  me  of  that  despicable  creatiire,"  cried  the  old 
man;  "I  have  sworn  to  think  of  her  no  more."  Terrified  at  this 
speech,  Wilhelm  felt  still  more  embarrassed,  as  the  old  man  proceeded 
to  vituperate  her  fickleness  and  wantonness.  Most  gladly  would  our 
friend  have  broken  off  the  conversation  ;  but  now  it  was  impossible  : 
he  was  obliged  to  undergo  the  whole  tumultuous  effusions  of  this 
strange  old  gentleman. 

"  I  am  ashamed,"  continued  he,  "that  I  felt  such  a  friendship  for 
her.  Yet  had  you  known  the  girl  better,  you  would  excuse  me.  She 
was  so  pretty,  so  natural  and  good,  so  pleasing,  in  every  sense  so  tol- 
erable, I  could  never  have  supposed  that  ingratitude  and  impudence 
were  to  prove  the  chief  features  of  her  character." 

Wilhelm  had  nerved  himself  to  hear  the  worst  of  her  ;  when  all 
at  once  he  observed,  with  astonishment,  that  the  old  man's  tones  grew 
milder,  his  voice  faltered,  and  he  took  out  his  handlterchief  to  dry 
the  tears,  which  at  last  began  to  trickle  down  his  cheeks. 

•"  What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  cried  Wilhelm.  "What  is  it 
that  suddenly  so  changes  the  current  of  your  feelings  ?  Conceal  it 
not  from  me.  I  take  a  deeper  interest  in  the  fate  of  this  girl  than 
you  suppose.     Only  tell  me  all. " 

"  I  have  not  much  to  say,"  replied  the  old  man,  again  taking  iiphis 
earnest  angry  tone.  "  I  have  suffered  more  from  her  than  I  shall 
ever  forgive.  She  had  always  a  kind  of  trust  in  me.  I  loved  her  as 
my  own  daughter  ;  indeed,  while  my  wife  lived,  I  had  formed  a  reso- 
lution to  take  the  creature  to  my  own  house,  and  save  her  from  the 
hands  of  that  old  crone,  from  whose  guidance  I  boded  no  good.  But 
my  wife  died,  and  the  project  went  to  nothing. 

"  About  the  end  our  stay  in  your  native  town,  it  is  not  quite  three 
years  ago,  I  noticed  a  visible  sadness  about  her.  I  questioned  her, 
but  she  evaded  me.  At  last  we  set  out  on  our  journey.  She  traveled 
in  the  same  coach  with  me  ;  and  I  soon  observed,  what  she  herself 
did  not  long  deny,  that  she  was  with  child,  and  suffering  the  greatest 
terror,  lest  our  manager  might  turn  her  off.  In  fact,  in  a  short  wliile 
he  did  make  the  discovery  ;  immediately  threw  up  her  contract,  which 
at  any  rate  was  only  for  six  weeks  ;  paid  off  her  arrears  ;  and  in  spite 
of  all  entreaties,  left  her  behind,  in  the  miserable  inn  of  a  little  vil- 
lage. 

"  Devil  take  all  wanton  jilts  !  "  cried  the  old  man,  with  a  splenetic 
tone,  "  and  especially  this  one,  that  has  spoiled  me  so  many  hours  of 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  VIIL  89 

my  life  !  Why  sliould  I  keep  talking  how  I  myself  took  charge  of 
her,  what  I  did  for  her,  what  I  spent  on  her,  how  in  absence  I  pro- 
vided for  her?  I  would  rather  throw  my  purse  into  the  ditch,  and 
spend  my  time  in  nursing  mangy  whelps,  than  ever  more  bestow  the 
smallest  care  on  such  a  thing.  Pshaw  !  at  first  I  got  letters  of  thanks, 
notice  of  places  she  was  staying  at  ;  and,  finally,  no  word  at  all,  not 
even  an  acknowledgment  of  the  money  I  had  sent  to  pay  the  ex- 
penses of  her  lying-in.  O  !  the  treachery  and  the  fickleness  of  women 
are  rightly  matched,  to  get  a  comfortable  living  for  themselves,  and 
to  give  an  honest  fellow  many  heavy  hours." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


Wilhelm's  feelings,  on  returning  home  after  this  conversation, 
may  be  easily  conceived.  All  his  old  wounds  had  been  torn  up  afresh  ; 
and  the  sentiment,  that  Mariana  was  not  wholly  unworthy  of  his  love, 
had  again  been  brought  to  life.  The  interest  which  the  old  man  had 
shown  about  her  fate,  the  praises  he  gave  her  against  his  will,  dis- 
played her  again  in  all  her  attractiveness.  Nay,  even  the  bitter  ac- 
cusations brought  against  her  contained  nothing  that  could  lower  her 
in  Wilhelm's  estimation  ;  for  he,  as  well  as  she,  was  guilty  in  all 
her  aberrations.  Nor  did  even  her  final  silence  seem  greatly  blam- 
able  ;  it  rather  inspired  him  with  mournful  thoughts.  He  saw  lier, 
as  a  frail,  ill-succored  mother,  wandering  helplessly  about  the  world  ; 
wandering  perhaps  with  his  own  child.  What  he  knew,  and  what  he 
knew  not,  awoke  in  him  the  painfulest  emotions. 

Mignon  had  been  waiting  for  him  :  she  lighted  him  upstairs.  On 
setting  down  the  light,  she  begged  that  he  would  allow  her,  that  even- 
ing to  compliment  him  with  a  piece  of  her  art.  He  would  rather 
have  declined  this,  particularly  as  he  knew  not  what  it  was  ;  but  he 
had  not  the  heart  to  refuse  anything  this  kind  creature  wished.  After 
a  little  while  she  again  came  in.  She  carried  a  little  carpet  below  her 
arm,  which  she  then  spread  out  upon  the  floor.  Wilhelm  said  she 
might  proceed.  She  thereupon  brought  four  candles,  and  placed  one 
upon  each  corner  of  the  carpet.  A  little  basket  of  eggs  which  she 
next  carried  in,  made  her  purpose  clearer.  Carefully  measuring  her 
steps,  she  then  walked  to  and  fro  on  the  carpet,  spreading  out  the 
eggs  in  certain  figures  and  positions  :  which  done,  she  called  in  a 
man  that  was  waiting  in  the  house,  and  could  play  on  the  violin.  He 
retired  with  his  instrument  into  a  corner  ;  she  tied  a  band  about  her 
eyes,  gave  a  signal,  and,  like  a  piece  of  wheel-work  set  a-going,  she 
began  moving  the  same  instant  as  the  music,  accompanying  her  beats 
and  the  notes  of  the  tune  with  the  strokes  of  a  pair  of  castanets. 

Lightly,  nimbly,  quickly,  and  with  hairsbreadth  accuracy,  she  car- 


90  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

ried  on  the  dance.  She  skipped  so  sharply  and  surely  along  between 
the  eggs,  and  trod  so  closely  down  beside  them,  that  you  would  have 
thouglit  every  instant  she  must  trample  one  of  them  in  pieces,  or  kick 
the  rest  away  in  her  rapid  turns.  By  no  means  !  She  touched  no 
one  of  them,  though  winding  herself  through  their  mazes  Avith  all 
kinds  of  steps,  wide  and  narrow,  nay  even  with  leaps,  and  at  last 
half-kneeling. 

Constant  as  the  movement  of  a  clock  she  ran  her  course  ;  and  the 
strange  music,  at  each  repetition  of  the  tune,  gave  a  new  impulse  to 
the  dance,  recommencing  and  again  rushing  oft"  as  at  first.  Wilhelm 
was  quite  led  away  by  this  singular  spectacle  ;  he  forgot  his  cares  ; 
he  followed  every  movement  of  the  dear  little  creature,  and  felt  sur- 
prised to'see  how  finely  her  character  unfolded  itself  as  she  proceeded 
in  the  dance. 

Rigid,  sharp,'  cold,  vehement  and  in  soft  postures,  stately  rather 
than  attractive  ;  such  was  the  light  in  which  it  showed  her.  At  this 
moment,  he  experienced  at  once  all  the  emotions  he  had  ever  felt  for 
Mignon.  He  longed  to  incorporate  this  forsaken  being  with  his  own 
heart  ;  to  take  her  in  his  arms,  and  Avith  a  father's  love  to  awaken  in 
her  the  joy  of  existence. 

The  dance  being  ended,  she  rolled  the  eggs  together  softly  with  her 
foot  into  a  little  heap,  left  none  behind,  harmed  none  ;  then  placed 
herself  beside  it,  taking  the  bandage  from  her  eyes,  and  concluding 
her  performance  with  a  little  bow. 

Wilhelm  thanked  her  for  having  executed,  so  prettily  and  unex- 
pectedly, a  dance  he  had  long  wished  to  see.  He  patted  her  ;  was 
sorry  she  had  tired  herself  so  much.  He  promised  her  a  new  suit  of 
clothes  ;  to  which  she  vehemently  replied  :  "  Thy  color  ! "  This, 
too,  he  promised  her,  though  not  well  knowing  what  she  meant  by 
it.  She  then  lifted  up  the  eggs,  took  the  carpet  iinder  her  arm,  asked 
if  he  wanted  anything  farther,  and  skipped  out  of  the  door. 

The  musician,  being  questioned,  said  that,  for  some  time,  she  had 
taken  much  trouble  in  often  singing  over  the  tune  of  this  dance,  the 
well-known  fandango,  to  him,  and  training  him  till  he  could  play  it 
accurately.  For  his  labor  she  had  likewise  offered  him  some  money, 
which,  however,  he  would  not  accept. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


After  a  restless  night,  which  our  friend  spent  gom^tiines  waking, 
sometimes  oppressed  with  un))IeHsant  dreams,  seeing  Mariana  now  in 
in  all  her  beauty,  now  in  woeful  case,  at  one  time  with  a  child  on  her 
arm,  then  soon  bereaved  of  it,  tlie  morning  had  scarcely  davvneil, 
when   Mignon  entered  with  a  tailor,     SJie  brought  some  gray  cloth 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  IX.  91 

and  blue  taffeta,  signifying  in  her  own  way  that  she  wished  to  have 
a  new  jacket  and  sailor's  trousers,  such  as  she  had  seen  the  boys  of 
the  town  wearing,  with  blue  cuffs  and  tyers. 

Since  the  loss  of  Mariana,  Wilhelm  had  laid  aside  all  gay  colors. 
He  had  used  himself  to  gray,  the  garment  of  the  shades  ;  and  only 
perhaps  a  sky-blue  lining,  or  little  collar  of  that  dye,  in  some  degree 
enlivened  his  sober  garb.  Miguon,  eager  to  wear  his  colors,  hurried 
on  the  tailor,  who  engaged  to  have  his  work  soon  ready. 

The  exercise  in  dancing  and  fencing,  which  our  friend  took  this 
day  with  Laertes,  did  not  prosper  in  their  hands.  Indeed,  it  was  soon 
interrupted  by  Melina,  who  came  to  show  them  circumstantially  how 
a  little  company  was  now  of  itself  collected,  sufficient  to  exhibit  plays 
in  abundance.  He  renewed  the  proposal  that  Wilhelm  should  ad- 
vance a  little  money  for  setting  them  in  motion  :  which,  however, 
Wilhelm  still  declined. 

Ere  long  Philina  and  the  girls  came  in,  racketing  and  laughing  as 
usual.  They  had  now  devised  a  fresh  excursion  ;  for  change  of  place 
and  objects  was  a  pleasure  after  which  they  always  longed.  To  eat 
daily  in  a  different  spot  was  their  highest  wish.  On  this  occasion 
they  proposed  a  sail. 

The  boat,  in  which  they  were  to  fall  down  the  pleasant  windings 
of  the  river,  had  already  been  engaged  by  the  pedant.  Philina 
urged  them  on  :  ihe  party  did  not  linger,  and  were  soon  on  board. 

"  What  shall  we  take  to  now?"  said  Philina,  when  all  had  placed 
themselves  upon  the  benches. 

"  The  readiest  thing,"  replied  Laertes,  "  were  for  us  to  extemporize 
a  play.  Let  each  take  a  part  that  suits  his  character,  and  we  shall 
see  how  we  get  along." 

"  Excellent  !  "  said  Wilhelm.  "  In  a  society  where  there  is  no  dis- 
simulation, but  where  each  without  disguise  pursues  the  bent  of  his 
own  humor,  elegance  and  satisfaction  cannot  long  continue  ;  and 
where  dissimulation  always  reigns,  they  do  not  enter  at  all.  It  will 
not  be  amiss,  then,  that  we  take  up  dissimulation  to  begin  with  ;  and 
then,  behind  our  masks,  be  as  candid  as  we  please." 

"  Yes,"  said  Laertes,  "it  is  on  this  account  that  one  goes  on  so 
pleasantly  with  women  ;  they  never  show  themselves  in  their  natural 
form. " 

"  That  is  to  say,"  replied  Madam  Melina,  "  they  are  not  so  vain  as 
men,  who  conceive  themselves  to  be  always  amiable  enough,  just  as 
nature  has  produced  them." 

In  the  meantime  the  river  led  them  between  pleasant  groves  and 
hills,  between  gardens  and  vineyards  ;  and  the  young  women,  espe- 
cially Madam  Melina,  expressed  their  rapture  at  the  landscape.  The 
latter  even  began  to  recite,  in  solemn  style,  a  pretty  poem  of  the  de- 
scriptive sort,  upon  a  similar  scene  of  nature  ;  but  Philina  interrupted 
her  with  the  proposal  of  a  law,  that  no  one  should  presume  to  speak 
of  any  inanimate  object.     On  the  other  hand,  she  zealously  urged 


92  MEISTER'8  APPBENT1GE8HIP. 

on  tlieir  project  of  an  extempore  play.  Old  Boisterous  was  to  be  a 
half-pay  olficer  ;  Laertes  a  feuciug-niaster  taking  bis  vacation  ;  the 
pedant  a  Jew  ;  sbe  berself  would  act  a  Tyrolese,  leaving  to  tbe  rest 
to  choose  characters  according  to  their  several  pleasures.  They  would 
suppose  themselves  to  be  a  party  of  total  strangers  to  each  other,  who 
had  just  met  on  board  a  merchant  ship. 

She  immediately  began  to  play  her  part  with  the  Jew  ;  and  a  uni- 
versal cheerfulness  diffused  itself  among  them. 

They  had  not  sailed  far,  when  the  skipper  stopped  in  his  course, 
asking  permission  of  the  company  to  take  in  a  person  standing  on  the 
shore,  who  had  made  a  sign  to  him. 

"  That  is  just  what  we  needed,"  cried  Philina,  "  a  chance  passenger 
was  wanting  to  comjilete  the  traveling  party." 

A  handsome  man  came  on  board  ;  whom,  by  his  dress  and  his  dig- 
nified mien,  you  might  have  taken  for  a  clergyman.  He  saluted  the 
party,  who  thanked  him  in  their  own  way,  and  soon  made  known  to 
him  the  nature  of  tlieir  game.  The  stranger  immediately  engaged  to 
play  the  part  of  a  country  parson  ;  which,  in  fact,  he  accomplished 
in  the  adroitest  manner,  to  the  admiration  of  all  ;  now  admonishing, 
now  telling  stories,  showing  some  weak  points,  yet  never  losing  their 
respect. 

In  the  meantime,  every  one  who  had  made  a  false  step  in  his  part, 
or  swerved  from  his  character,  had  been  obliged  to  forfeit  a  pledge  ; 
Philina  had  gathered  them  with  the  greatest  care  ;  and  esjiecially 
threatened  the  reverend  gentleman  with  many  kisses,  though  he  him- 
self had  never  been  at  fault.  Melina,  on  the  other  hand,  was  com- 
pletely fleeced ;  shirt-buttons,  buckles,  every  movable  about  his 
person  was  in  Philina's  hands.  He  was  trying  to  enact  an  English 
traveler,  and  could  not  by  any  means  get  into  the  spirit  of  his 
part. 

Meanwhile  the  time  had  passed  away  very  pleasantly.  Each  had 
strained  his  fancy  and  his  wit  to  the  utmost,  and  each  had  garnished 
his  part  with  agreeable  and  entertaining  jests.  Thus  comfortably 
occupied  ..they  readied  the  place  where  they  meant  to  pass  the  day  ; 
and  Wilhelm  going  out  to  walk  with  the  clergyman,  as  both  from 
his  appearance  and  late  character  he  persisted  in  naming  him,  soon 
fell  into  an  interesting  conversation. 

"I  think  this  practice,"  said  the  stranger,  "very  useful  among 
actors,  and  even  in  the  company  of  friends  and  acquaintances.  It  is 
the  best  mode  of  drawing  men  out  of  themselves,  and  leading  them, 
by  a  circuitous  path,  back  into  themselves  again.  It  should  be  a  cus- 
tom with  every  troup  of  players  to  practice  in  this  manner  :  and  the 
public  would  assuredly  be  no  loser,  if  every  month  an  unwritten 
piece  were  brought  forward  ;  in  which,  of  course,  the  players  had 
prepared  themselves  by  several  rehearsals." 

"  One  should  not,  then,"  replied  our  friend,  "  consider  an  extem- 
pore piece  as,  strictly  speaking,  composed  on  the  spur  of  the  moment ; 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  IX.  93 

but  as  a  piece  of  which  the  plan,  action  and  division  of  the  scenes 
were  given,  the  filling  up  of  all  this  being  left  to  the  player." 

"  Quite  right,"  said  the  stranger  ;  "  and  in  regard  to  this  very  fill- 
ing up,  such  a  piece,  were  the  players  once  trained  to  these  perform- 
ances, would  profit  greatly.  Not  in  regard  to  the  mere  words,  it  is 
true ;  for  by  a  careful  selection  of  these,  the  studious  writer  may 
certainly  adorn  his  work  ;  but  in  regard  to  the  gestures,  looks,  excla- 
matioiis,  and  everything  of  that  nature  ;  in  short,  to  the  mute  and 
half-mute  play  of  the  dialogue,  which  seems  by  degrees  fading  away 
among  us  altogether.  There  are  indeed  some  players  in  Grermany, 
whose  bodies  figure  what  they  think  and  feel  ;  who,  by  their  silence, 
their  delays,  their  looks,  their  slight  graceful  movements,  can  prepare 
the  audience  for  a  speech,  and  by  a  pleasant  sort  of  pantomime  com- 
bine the  pauses  of  the  dialogue  with  the  general  whole  ;  but  such  a 
practice  as  this,  co-operating  with  a  happy  natural  turn,  and  training 
it  to  compete  with  the  author,  is  far  from  being  so  habitual  as,  for 
the  comfort  of  play-going  people,  were  to  be  desired." 

"But  will  not  a  happy  natural  turn,"  said  Wilhelm,  "as  the  first 
and  last  requisite,  of  itself  conduct  the  player  like  every  other  artist, 
nay,  perhaps  every  other  man,  to  the  lofty  mark  he  aims  at "? " 

"  The  first  and  the  last,  the  beginning  and  the  end,  it  may  well  be  ; 
but  in  the  middle,  many  things  will  still  be  wanting  to  an  artist,  if 
instruction,  and  early  instruction  too,  have  not  previously  made  that 
of  him  which  he  was  meant  to  be  ;  and  perhaps  for  the  man  of  genius 
it  is  worse  in  this  respect  than  for  the  man  possessed  of  only  common 
capabilities  ;  the  one  may  much  more  easily  be  misiustructed,  and  be 
driven  far  more  violently  into  false  courses,  than  the  other." 

"But,"  said  Wilhelm,  "will  not  genius  save  itself,  not  heal  the 
wounds  which  itself  has  inflicted?" 

"Only  to  a  very  small  extent,  and  with  great  difl[iculty,"  said  the 
other,  "  or  j^Pi'lifips  not  at  all.  Let  no  one  think  that  he  can  conquer 
the  first  impressions  of  his  youth.  If  he  has  grown  up  in  enviable 
freedom,  sorrounded  with  beautiful  and  noble  objects,  in  constant 
intercourse  with  worthy  men  ;  if  his  masters  have  taught  him  what 
he  needed  fir.st  to  know,  for  comprehending  more  easily  what  fol- 
lowed ;  if  he  has  never  learned  anything  which  he  requires  to 
unlearn ;  if  his  first  operations  have  been  so  guided,  that  without 
altering  any  <  f  his  habits,  he  can  more  easily  produce  what  is  excel- 
lent in  future  ;  then  such  a  one  will  lead  a  purer,  more  perfect  and 
happier  life,  than  another  man  who  has  wasted  the  force  of  his  youth 
in  opposition  and  error.  A  great  deal  is  said  and  written  about  edu- 
cation ;  yet  I  meet  with  very  few  who  can  comprehend,  and  transfer 
topractice,  this  simple  yet  vast  idea,  which  includes  within  itself  all 
otliefs  connected  with  the  subject." 

"That  may  well  be  true,"  said  Wilhelm,  "for  the  generality  of 
men  are  limited  enough  in  their  conceptions  to  suppose  that  every 
other  should  be  fashioned  by  education  according  to  the  pattern  of 


A 


94  MEISTER  'S  APPRENTK  'ESHIP. 

themselves.     Happy  then   are  those  whom   fate  takes  charge  of,  and 
educates  according  to  their  several  natures  ! " 

"Fate,"  said  the  other  smiling,  "  is  an  excellent,  but  most  expen- 
sive schoolmaster.  In  all  cases,  I  would  rather  trust  to  the  reason  of 
a  human  tutor.  Fate,  for  whose  wisdom  I  entertain  all  imaginable 
reverence,  often  finds  in  Chance,  by  which  it  works,  an  instrument 
not  over  mauagable.  At  least  the  latter  very  seldom  seems  to  execute 
precisely  and  accurately  wha,t  the  former  had  determined." 

"  You  seem  to  express  a  very  singular  opinion,"  said  Wilhelm. 

"Not  at  all  !  "  replied  the  other.  "  Most  of  what  happens  in  the 
world  confii-ms  my  opinion.  Do  not  many  incidents  at  their  com 
mencement  show  some  mighty  purport,  and  generally  terminate  in 
sometliing  paltry  ?  " 

"  You  mean  to  jest." 

"  And  as  to  what  concerns  the  individual  man,"  pursued  the  other, 
"is  it  not  so  with  this  likewise?  Suppose  Fate  had  appointed  one 
to  be  a  good  player  ;  and  vjhy  should  it  not  provide  us  with  good 
players  as  well  as  other  good  things?  Chance  would  perhaps  con- 
duct the  youth  into  some  puppet-show  ;  where,  at  such  an  early  age, 
he  could  not  help  takhig  interest  in  what  was  tasteless  and  despic- 
able, reckoning  insipidities  endurable  or  even  pleasing,  and  thus  cor- 
rupting and  misdirecting  his  primary  impressions  ;  impressions  which 
can  never  be  effaced,  and  whose  intluence,  in  spite  of  all  our  efforts, 
cling  to  us  in  some  degree  to  the  very  last. " 

"What  makes  you  think  of  puppet-shows  ?"  said  Wilhelm,  not 
witliout  some  consternation. 

"  It  was  an  accidental  instance  ;  if  it  does  not  please  you,  we  shall 
take  another.  Suppose  Fate  had  appointed  any  one  to  be  a  great 
painter,  and  it  pleased  Chance  that  he  should  pass  his  youth  in  sooty 
huts,  in  barns  and  stables  ;  do  you  think  that  such  a  man  would  ever 
be  enabled  to  exalt  himself  to  purity,  to  nobleness,  to  freedom  of 
soul?  The  more  keenly  he  may  in  his  youth  have  seized  on  the 
impure,  and  tried  in  his  own  nuinner  to  ennoble  it,  the  more  power- 
fully in  the  remainder  of  his  life  will  it  be  revenged  on  him  ;  because 
while  he  was  endeavoring  to  conquer  it,  his  whole  being  has  become 
inseparably  combined  with  it.  Whoever  spends  his  early  years  in 
mean  and  pitiful  society,  though  at  an  after  period  he  may  have  the 
choice  of  better,  Avill  yet  constantly  look  back  with  longing  towards 
that  which  he  enjoyed  of  old,  and  which  has  left  its  imi)rp8sion 
blended  with  the  memory  of  all  his  young  and  unreturuing.  pleas- 
ures." 

From  conversation  of  tliis  sort,  it  is  easy  to  imagine,  the  rest  of  the 
company  had  gradually  withdrawn.  Philina,  in  particular,  had  stept 
aside  at  the  very  outset.  Wilhelm  and  his  comrade  now  rejoined 
them  by  a  cross-path.  Philina  brought  out  her  forfeits,  and  they 
had  to  be  redeemed  in  many  different  ways.  During  which  business, 
the  stranger,  by  the  most  ingenious  devices,  and  by  his  frank  partici 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  X.  95 

pation  in  their  sports,  recommended  himself  much  to  all  the  party, 
and  particularly  to  the  ladies  ;  and  thus,  amid  joking,  singing,  kiss- 
ing, and  railleries  of  all  sorts,  the  hours  passed  away  in  the  most 
pleasant  manner. 


CHAPTER  X. 


When  our  friends  began  to  think  of  going  home,  they  looked 
about  them  for  their  clergyman  ;  but  he  had  vanished,  and  was  no- 
where to  be  found. 

"It  is  not  polite  in  the  man,  who  otherwise  displayed  good  breed- 
ing," said  Madam  Melina,  "to  desert  a  company  that  welcomed  him 
so  kindly,  without  taking  leave." 

"  I  have  all  the  time  been  thinking,"  said  Laertes,  "  where  I  can 
have  seen  this  singular  man  before.  I  fully  intended  to  ask  him 
about  it  at  parting." 

"I  too  had  the  same  feeling,"  said  Wilhelm,  "and  certainly  I 
should  not  have  let  him  go,  till  he  had  told  us  something  more  about 
his  circumstances.  I  am  much  mistaken  if  I  have  not  ere  now  spoken 
with  him  somewhere." 

"  And  you  may  in  truth,"  said  Philina,  "be  mistaken  there.  This 
person  seems  to  have  the  air  of  an  acquaintance,  because  he  looks  like 
a  man,  and  not  like  Jack  or  Kit." 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  said  Laertes.     "  Do  not  we  two  look  like  men  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  I  am  saying,"  cried  Philina  ;  "  and  if  you  cannot 
understand  me,  never  mind.  In  the  end  my  words  will  be  found  to 
require  no  commentary." 

Two  coaches  now  drove  up.  All  praised  the  attention  of  Laertes, 
who  had  ordered  them.  Philina,  with  Madam  Melina,  took  her  place 
opposite  to  Wilhelm  ;  the  rest  bestowed  themselves  as  they  best 
could.  Laertes  rode  back  on  Wilhelms  horse,  which  had  likewise 
been  brought  out. 

Philina  was  scarcely  seated  in  the  coach,  when  she  began  to  sing 
some  pretty  song,  and  gradually  led  the  conversation  to  some  stories, 
which  she  said  might  be  successfully  treated  in  the  form  of  dramas. 
By  this  cunning  turn  she  very  soon  put  her  young  friend  into  his 
finest  humor  ;  from  the  wealth  of  his  living  imaginative  store  he 
forthwith  constructed  a  complete  play,  with  all  its  acts,  scenes, 
characters  and  plots.  It  was  thought  proper  to  insert  a  few  catches 
and  songs  ;  they  composed  them  ;  and  Philina,  who  entered  into 
every  part  of  it,  immediately  fitted  them  with  well-known  tunes,  and 
sang  them  on  the  spot 

It  was  one  of  her  beautiful,  most  beautiful  days  ;  she  had  skill  to 
enliven  our  friend  with  all  manner  of  diverting  wiles  ;  he  felt  in 
spirits  such  as  he  had  not  for  many  a  month  enjoyed. 


96  M BISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Since  tliat  shocking  discovery  had  torn  him  from  the  side  of 
Mariana,  he  had  continued  true  to  his  vow  to  be  on  his  guard  against 
the  encircling  arms  of  women,  to  avoid  tlie  failliless  sex,  to  lock  up 
his  inclinations,  his  sweet  wishes  in  his  own  bosom.  The  conscien- 
tiousness with  which  he  had  observed  this  vow  gave  his  whole  nature 
a  secret  nourishment  ;  and  as  his  heart  could  not  remain  without 
affection,  some  loving  sympathy  had  now  become  a  want  with  him. 
He  went  along  once  more,  as  if  environed  by  the  first  cloudy  glories 
of  youth  ;  his  eye  fixed  joyfully  on  every  charming  object,  and  never 
had  his  judgment  ,of  a  lovely  form  been  more  favorable.  How 
dangerous,  in  such  a  situation,  this  wild  girl  must  have  been  to  him, 
is  but  too  easy  to  conceive. 

Arrived  at  home,  they  found  Wilhelm's  chamber  all  ready  to  receive 
them  ;  the  chairs  set  right  for  a  public  reading  ;  in  the  midst  of  them 
the  table,  on  which  the  punch-bowl  was  in  due  time  to  take  its  place. 

The  German  chivalry  plays  were  new  at  this  period',  and  had  just 
excited  the  attention  and  the  inclination  of  the  public.  Old  Boister- 
ous had  brought  one  of  this  sort  with  him  ;  the  reading  of  it  had 
already  been  determined  on.  They  all  sat  down  ;  Wilhelm  took 
possession  of  the  pamphlet,  and  began  to  read. 

The  harnessed  knights,  the  ancient  keeps,  the  true-heartedness, 
honesty  and  downrightness,  but  especially  the  independence  of  the 
acting  characters,  Avere  received  with  the  greatest  approbation.  The 
reader  did  his  utmost  ;  and  the  audience  gradually  mounted  into 
rapture.  Between  the  third  and  fourth  acts,  the  punch  arrived  in  an 
ample  bowl  ;  and  there  being  much  fighting  and  drinking  in  the 
piece  itself,  nothing  was  more  natural  than  that,  on  every  such  oc- 
currence, the  company  should  transport  themselves  into  the  situation 
of  the  heroes,  should  flourish  and  strike  along  with  them,  and  drink 
long  life  to  their  favorites  among  the  dramatis  persona;. 

Each  individual  of  the  party  was  inflamed  with  the  noblest  fire  of 
.national  spirit.  How  it  gratified  this  German  company  to  be  poeti- 
cally entertained,  according  to  their  own  character,  on  stuff  of  their 
^own  manufacture  I  In  particular,  the  vaults  and  caverns,  the  ruined 
castles,  the  moss  and  hollow  trees,  but  above  all  the  nocturnal  gipsy- 
scenes,  and  the  secret  tribunal,  produced  a  quite  incredible  effect. 
Every  actor  now  figured  to  himself  how,  ere  Jong,  in  helm  and  har- 
ness ;  every  actress  how,  with  a  monstrous  spreading  ruff,  she  would 
present  her  Germanship  before  the  public.  Each  would  aj)propriate 
to  himself  without  d(?]ay  some  name  taken  from  the  piece,  or  from 
German  history  ;  and  Madam  Melina declared,  that  the  son  or  daughter 
she  was  then  expecting  should  not  be  christened  otherwise  than  by 
the  name  of  Adelbert  or  of  Mathilde. 

Towards  the  fifth  act  the  approbation  became  more  impetuous  and 
louder  ;  and  at  last,  when  the  hero  actually  trampled  down  his  op- 
pressor, and  the  tyrant  met  his  doom,  the  ecstasy  increased  to  such  a 
height,  that  all  averred  they  had  never  passed  such  happy  momenta. 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  tl  97 

Melina,  whom  tlie  liquor  had  inspired,  was  the  noisiest  ;  and  when 
the  second  bowl  was  empty,  and  midnight  near,  Laertes  swore  through 
thick  and  thin,  that  no  living  mortal  was  worthy  ever  more  to  i)ut 
these  glasses  to  his  lips  ;  and,  so  swearing,  he  pitched  his  own  righti 
over  his  head,  through  a  window-pane,  out  into  the  street.     The  rest 
followed  his  example  ;  and  notwithstanding  the  protestations  of  the! 
landlord,  who  came  running  in  at  the  noise,  the  punch-bowl  itself, 
never  after  this  festivity  to  be  polluted  by  unholy  drink,  was  dashed 
into  a  thousand  shreds.     Philina,  whose  exhilaration  was  the  least! 
noticed,  the  other  two  girls  by  that  time  having  laid  themselves  upon  \ 
the  sofa  in  no  very  elegant  positions,  maliciously  encouraged  her  com- 
panions in  their  tumult.     Madam  Melina  recited  some  spirit-stirring 
poems  ;  and  her  husband,  not  too  amiable  in  the  uproar,  began  to     , 
cavil  at  the  insufficient  preparation  of  the  punch,  declaring  that  he  i  \ 
could  arrange  an  entertainment  altogether  in  a  different  style  ;  and  at  V  '; 
last  becoming  sulkier  and  louder  as  Laertes  commanded  silence,  till  ^.  \ 
the  latter,  without  much  consideration,  threw  the  fragments  of  the  |   \ 
punch-bowl  about  his  head,  and  thereby  not  a  little  deepened  the    . 
confusion.  '. 

Meanwhile  the  town-guard  had  arrived,  and  were  demanding  admis- 
sion to  the  house.  Wilhelra,  much  heated  by  his  reading,  though  he  , 
had  drunk  but  little,  had  enough  to  do  with  the  landlord's  help  to 
content  these  people  by  money  and  good  words  ;  and  afterwards  to 
get  the  various  members  of  his  party  sent  home  in  that  unseemly 
case.  On  coming  back,  overpowered  with  sleep  and  full  of  chagrin, 
he  threw  himself  upon  his  bed  without  undressing;  and  nothing  could 
exceed  his  disgust,  when,  opening  his  eyes  next  morning,  he  looked 
out  with  dull  sight  upon  the  devastations  of  the  bygone  day,  and  saw/ 
the  uncleanness,  and  the  many  bad  effects,  of*  which  that  ingenious,' 
lively  and  well-intended  poetical  performance  had  been  the  cause. 


■ 


CHAPTER  XI. 


After  a  short  consideration  he  called  the  landlord,  and  bade  hini 
mark  to  his  account  both  the  damage  and  the  regular  charge.  At  tlic 
same  time  he  learned,  not  without  vexation,  that  his  horse  had  been 
so  hard  ridden  by  Laertes  last  night,  that,  in  all  probability,  it  was 
foundered,  as  they  term  it,  the  farrier  having  little  hope  of  its  recov- 
ering. 

A  salute  from  Philina,  tvhich  she  threw  him  from  her  windo-\*^, 
restored  him  in  some  degree  to  a  more  cheerful  humor  ;  he  went  forth- 
with into  the  nearest  shop  to  buy  her  a  little  present,  which,  in  return 
for  the  powder-knife,  he  still  owed  her  ;  and  it  must  be  owned  that, 
in  selecting  his  gift,  he  did  not  keep  himself  within  the  limits  of 
Meister — 4 


98  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

proportional  value.  He  not  only  purchased  lier  a  pair  of  ear-rings  ; 
but  added  likewise  a  hat  and  handkerchief,  and  some  other  little  arti- 
cles, which  he  had  seen  her  lavishly  throw  from  her  on  the  first  day 
of  their  acquaintance. 

Madam  Melina  happening  to  observe  him  as  he  was  delivering  his 
presents,  took  an  opportunity  before  breakfa.st  to  rate  him  very  earn- 
estly about  his  inclination  for  this  girl  ;  at  which  he  felt  the  more 
astonished,  the  less  he  thought  it  merited.  He  swore  solemnly,  that 
he  had  never  once  entertained  tlie  slightest  notion  of  attaching  him- 
self to  such  a  person,  whose  whole  manner  of  proceeding  was  well 
known  to  him  •  he  excused  himself  as  well  as  possible  for  his  friendly 
and  polite  conduct  towards  her  ;  yet  did  not  by  any  means  content 
Madam  Melina,  whose  spite  grew  even  more  determined,  as  she  could 
not  but  observe  that  the  flatteries  by  which  she  had  acquired  for  her- 
self a  sort  of  partial  regard  from  our  friend,  were  not  sufficient  to 
defend  this  conquest  from  the  attacks  of  a  lively,  younger  and  more 
gifted  rival. 

As  they  sat  down  to  table,  her  husband  joined  them,  likewise  in  a 
very  fretful  humor  ;  which  he  was  beginning  to  display  on  many 
little  things,  when  the  landlord  entered  to  announce  a  player  on  the 
harp.  "You  will  certainly,"  he  said,  "find  pleasure  in  the  music 
and  the  songs  of  this  man  ;  no  one  Avho  hears  him  can  forbear  to  ad- 
mire him,  and  bestow  something  on  him." 

"  Let  him  go  about  his  business,"  said  Melina  ;  "I  am  anything  but 
in  a  trim  for  hearing  fiddlers,  and  w'e  have  singers  constantly  among 
ourselves  disposed  to  gain  a  little  by  their  talent."  He  accompanied 
theso  words  with  a  sarcastic  side-look  at  Philina  :  she  understood  his 
meaning  :  and  immediately  prepared  to  punish  him,  by  taking  up  the 
cause  of  the  harper.  T.urning  towards  Wilhelm  :  "  Shall  we  not  hear 
the  man?"  said  she;  "shall  we  do  nothing  to  save  ourselves  from 
this  miserable  cnnvi  ?  " 

Melina  was  going  to  reply,  and  the  strife  would  have  grown  keener, 
had  not  the  person  it  related  to  at  that  moment  entered.  Wilhelm 
saluted  him,  and  beckoned  him  to  come  near. 

The  figure  of  this  singular  guest  set  tae  whole  party  in  astonish- 
ment ;  he  had  found  a  chair  before  any  one  took  heart  to  ask  him  a 
question,  or  make  any  observation.  His  bald  crown  was  encircled  by 
a  few  gray  hairs  ;  and  a  pair  of  large  blue  eyes  looked  out  softly  from 
beneath  his  long  white  eyelirows.  To  a  nose  of  beautiful  proportions 
was  subjoined  a -flowing  hoary  beard,  which  did  not  hide  the  fine 
shape  and  position  of  his  lips  ;  and  a  long  dark-brown  garment 
wrapped  liis  thin  body  from  the  neck  to  the  feet.  He  began  to  pre- 
lude on  the  harp,  which  he  had  placed  before  him. 

The  sweet  tones  which  he  drew  from  his  instrument  very  soon  in- 
spirited the  company. 

"  You  can  sing,  too,  my  good  old  man,"  said  Philina. 

"  Give  us  something  that  shall  entertain  the  spirit  and  the  heart  as 


BOOK  II.  CHAPTER  XI  99 

well  as  the  senses,"  said  Wilhelm.  "  Tlie  instrument  should  but 
accompany  the  voice  ;  for  tunes  and  melodies  without  words  and  mean- 
ing seem  to  me  like  butterflies  or  finely-variegated  birds,  which  hover 
round  us  in  the  air,  which  we  could  wish  to  catch  and  make  our  own  : 
whereas  song  is  like  a  blessed  genius  that  exalts  us  towards  heaven, 
and  allures  the  better  self  in  us  to  attend  him." 

The  old  man  looked  at  Wilhelm  ;  then  aloft  ;  then  gave  some  trills 
upon  his  harp,  and  began  his  song.  It  contained  a  eulogy  on  min- 
strelsy ;  described  the  happiness  of  minstrels,  and  reminded  men  to 
honor  them.  He  produced  his  song  with  so  much  life  and  truth,  that 
it  seemed  as  if  he  had  composed  it  at  the  moment,  for  this  special  oc- 
casion. Wilhelm  could  scarcely  refrain  from  clasping  him  in  his 
arms  ;  but  the  fear  of  awakening  a  peal  of  laughter  detained  liiin  in 
his  chair  ;  for  the  rest  were  already  in  half- whispers  making  sundry 
very  shallow  observations,  and  debating  if  the  harper  was  a  Papist  or 
a  Jew. 

On  asking  about  the  author  of  the  song,  the  man  gave  no  distinct 
reply  ;  declaring  only  that  he  was  rich  in  songs,  and  anxious  that  they 
should  please.  Most  of  the  party  were  now  merry  and  joyful  ;  even 
Melina  was  grown  frank  in  his  way  ;  and  whilst  they  talked  and  joked 
together,  the  old  man  began  to  sing  the  praise  of  social  life,  in  the 
most  sprightly  style.  He  described  the  loveliness  of  unity  and 
courtesy,  in  soft,  soothing  tones.  Suddenly  his  music  became  cold, 
harsh  and  jarring,  as  he  turned  to  deplore  repulsive  selfishness,  short- 
sighted enmity  and  baleful  division  ;  and  every  heart  willingly  threw 
off  those  galling  fetters,  while  borne  on  the  wings  of  a  piercing  melody, 
he  launched  forth  in  praise  of  peace-makers,  and  sang  the  happiness  of 
souls  that,  having  parted,  meet  again  in  love. 

Scarcely  had  he  ended  when  Wilhelm  cried  to  him  :  ' '  Whoever 
thou  art,  that  as  a  helping  spirit  comest  to  us,  with  a  voice  which 
blesses  and  revives,  accept  my  reverence  and  my  thanks  !  Feel  that 
we  all  admire  thee,  and  confide  in  us  if  thou  wantest  anything." 

The  old  man  spoke  not ;  he  threw  his  fingers  softly  across  the 
strings  :  then  struck  more  sharply,  and  sang  : 

"What  notes  are  those  without  the  wall, 

Across  the  portal  sounding  ? 
Let's  have  the  music  in  our  hall, 

Back  from  its  roof  rebounding." 
So  spoke  the  kin",  the  henchman  flies ; 
His  answer  heard,  the  monarch  cries : 

"  Bring  in  that  ancient  minstrel." 

"  Hail,  gracious  king,  each  noble  knight ! 

Each  lovely  dame,  I  greet  you  ! 
What  glittering  stars  salute  my  sight ! 

What  heart  unmov'd  may  meet  you  I 
Such  lordly  pomp  is  not  for  me. 
Far  other  scenes  my  eyes  must  see  : 

Yet  deign  to  list  my  harping." 


100  MEISTEB'S  APPBENTICESHIP. 

The  singer  turns  him  to  his  art, 

A  thrilling  strain  he  raises  ; 
Each  warrior  hears  with  glowing  heart, 

And  on  his  lov'd  one  gazes. 
The  king,  who  liked  his  playing  well, 
Commands,  for  such  a  kindly  spell, 

A  golden  chain  be  given  him. 

"  The  golden  chain  give  not  to  me  ; 

'I'hy  boldest  knight  may  wear  it. 
Who  cross'd  the  battle's  purp)le  sea 
On  lion-breast  may  bear  it : 
'  Or  let  it  be  thy  chancellor's  prize, 

Amid  his  heaps  to  feast  his  eyes, 

Its  yellow  glance  will  please  him. 

"  I  sing  but  as  the  linnet  sings, 

That  on  the  green  bough  dwelleth  ; 
A  rich  reward  the  music  brings, 

As  from  his  throat  it  swelleth  : 
Yet  might  I  ask,  I'd  ask  of  thine 
One  sparkling  draught  of  purest  wine, 

To  drink  it  here  before  you." 

He  view'd  the  wine,  he  quafE'd  it  up  . 

"  O  draught  of  sweetest  savor  ! 
O  happy  house,  where  such  a  cup 

Is  thought  a  little  favor  ! 
If  well  you  fare,  remember  me, 
And  thank  kind  Heaven,  from  envy  free. 

As  now  for  this  I  thank  you." 

When  the  harper,  on  finishing  his  song,  took  up  a  glass  of  wine  that 
stood  poured  out  for  him,  and,  turning  with  a  friendly  mien  to  his 
entertainers,  drank  it  ofi,  a  buzz  of  joyful  approbation  rose  from  all 
the  party.  They  clapped  hands,  and  wished  him  health  from  that 
glass,  and  strength  to  his  aged  limbs.  He  sang  a  few  other  ballads, 
exciting  more  and  more  hilarity  among  the  company. 

"  Old  man,"  said  Philina,  "  dost  thou  know  the  tune,  "The  Shep- 
lierd  deck'd  him  for  the  Dance 't  "* 

' '  O  yes  ! "  said  he  ;  "  if  you  will  sing  the  words,  I  shall  not  fail  for 
my  part  of  it.  ' 

'  Philina  then  stood  up,  and  held  herself  in  readiness.  The  old  man 
commenced  the  tune  ;  and  she  sang  a  song,  Avhich  we  cannot  impart 
to  our  readers,  lest  they  might  think  it  insipid,  or  perhaps  undignified. 

Meanwhile  the  comjjany  were  growing  merrier  and  merrier  ;  they 
luid'  already  emptied  several  flasks  of  wine,  and  were  now  beginning 
to  get  very  loud.  But  our  friend,  having  fresh  in  his  remembrance 
the  bad  consequences  of  their  late  exhilaration,  determined  to  break 
up  the  sitting  ;  he  slipped  into  the  old  man's  hand  a  liberal  remuner- 
ation for  his  trouble,  the  rest  did  something  likewise  :  they  gave  him 
leave  to  go  and  take  repose,  promising  themselves  another  entertain- 
ment from  his  skill  in  the  evening. 

*  "  Per  Schafer  putzte  sich  zum  Tanz  ;  "  a  song  of  Goethe's.— Ed. 


BOOK  11.  CHAPTER  XL  lUi 

VVheu  lie  had  retired,  our  frieud  said  to  Philiua  :  "  In  this  favorite 
song  of  yours  I  certainly  find  no  merit,  either  moral  or  poetical ;  yet, 
if  you  were  to  bring  forward  any  proper  composition  on  the  stage, 
with  the  same  arch  simplicity,  the  same  propriety  and  gracefulness, 
I  should  engage  that  strong  and  universal  approbation  would  be  the 
result." 

"Yes,"  said  Philina,  "it  would  be  a  channing  thing  indeed  to 
warm  one's  self  at  ice." 

"After  all,"  said  Wilhelm,  "this  old  man  might  put  many  a 
player  to  the  blush.  Did  you  notice  how  correctly  the  dramatic  part 
of  his  ballads  was  expressed?  I  maintain,  there  was  more  living  true 
representation  in  his  singing,  than  in  many  of  our  starched  characters 
upon  the  stage.  You  would  take  the  acting  of  many  plays  for  a 
narrative,  and  you  might  ascribe  to  these  musical  narratives  a  sen- 
sible presence." 

"  You  are  hardly  just  !  "  said  Laertes.  "  I  pretend  to  no  great  skill 
either  as  a  player  or  a  singer ;  yet  I  know  well  enough,  that,  when 
music  guides  the  movements  of  the  body,  at  once  affording  to  them 
animation  and  a  scale  to  measure  it ;  when  declamation  and  expression 
are  furnished  me  by  the  composer,  I  feel  quite  a  different  man  from 
what  I  do  when,  in  prose  dramas,  I  have  all  this  to  create  for  myself  ; 
have  both  gesture  and  declamation  to  invent,  and  am  perhaps  dis- 
turbed in  it  too  by  the  awkwardness  of  some  partner  in  the  dialogue." 

"Thus  much  I  know,"  said  Melina,  "  the  man  may  certainly  put 
us  to  the  blush  iii  one  point,  and  that  a  main  one.  The  strength  of 
his  talent  is  shown  by  the  profit  he  derives  from  it.  Even,  us,  who 
perhaps  ere  long  shall  be  embarrassed  where  to  get  a  meal,  he  per- 
suades to  share  our  pittance  with  him.  lie  has  skill  enough  to  wile 
the  money  from  our  pockets  with  an  old  song  ;  the  money  that  we 
should  have  used  to  find  ourselves  employment.  So  pleasant  an  affair 
is  it  to  squander  the  means  which  might  procure  subsistence  to  one's 
self  and  others." 

This  remark  gave  the  conversation  not  the  most  delightful  turn. 
Wilhelm,  for  whom  the  reproach  was  peculiarly  intended,  replied  with 
some  heat  ;  and  Melina,  at  no  time  over  studious  of  delicacy  and  p(t 
liteness,  explained  his  grievances  at  last  in  words  more  plain  than 
courteous.  "  It  is  now  a  fortnight,"  said  he,  "since  we  looked  at  the 
theatrical  machinery  and  wardrobe  which  is  lying  pawned  here  ;  the 
whole  might  be  redeemed  for  a  very  tolerable  sum.  You  then  gave 
me  hopes  that  you  would  lend  me  so  much  ;  and  hitherto  I  do  not  see 
that  you  have  thought  more  of  the  matter,  or  come  any  nearer  a 
determination.  Had  you  then  consented,  we  should  ere  now  have 
been  under  way.  Nor  has  your  intention  to  leave  the  place  been  ex- 
ecuted ;  nor  has  your  money  in  the  meantime  been  spared  :  at  least 
there  are  peojjle  who  have  always  skill  to  create  opportunities  for 
scattering  it  faster  and  faster  away." 

Such  upbraidings,  not  altogether  undeserved,  touched  Wilhelm  to 


lOa  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  quick.  He  replied  with  keenness,  nay,  with  anger ;  and,  as  the 
company  arose  to  part,  he  took  hold  of  the  door,  and  gave  them  not 
obscurely  to  understand  that  he  would  no  longer  continue  with  such 
unfriendly  and  ungrateful  people.  He  hastened  down,  in  no  kindly 
humor,  and  seated  himself  upon  the  stone  bench  without  the  door  of 
his  inn  ;  not  observing  that,  first  out  of  mirth,  then  out  of  spleen,  he 
had  drunk  more  wine  than  usual. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


After  a  short  time,  which  he  passed  sitting  looking  out  before  him, 
disquieted  by  many  thoughts,  Philina  came  singing  and  skipping 
along  through  the  front  door.  She  sat  down  by  him^  nay,  we  might 
almost  say,  on  him,  so  close  did  she  press  herself  towards  him  ;  she 
leant  herself  upon  his  shoulders,  began  playing  with  his  hail-,  patted 
him,  and  gave  him  the  best  words  in  the  world.  She  begged  of  him 
to  stay  with  them,  and  not  leave  her  alone  in  that  company,  or  she 
must  die  of  tedium  :  she  could  not  live  any  longer  in  the  same  house 
with  Melina,  and  had  come  over  to  lodge  in  the  other  inn  for  that  very 
reason. 

He  tried  in  vain  to  satisfy  her  with  denials  ;  to  make  her  understand 
that  he  neither  could  nor  would  remain  any  longer.  She  did  not  cease 
with  her -entreaties  ;  nay,  suddenly  she  threw  her  arm  roitnd  his  neck 
and  kissed  him  with  the  liveliest  expression  of  fondness. 

"  Are  you  mad,  Philina?"  cried  Wilhelm,  endeavoring  to  disengage 
himself  ;  "  to  make  the  open  street  the  scene  of  such  caresses,  which 
I  nowise  merit  !     Let  me  go  ;  I  cannot  and  I  will  not  stay." 

"And  I  will  hold  thee  fast,"  said  she,  "  and  kiss  thee  here  on  the 
open  street,  and  kiss  thee  till  thoti  promise  what  I  want.  I  shall  die 
of  laughing,"  she  continued;  "by  this  familiarity  the  good  people 
here  must  take  me  for  thy  wife  of  four  weeks'  standing  ;  and  hus- 
bands, who  Avitness  this  touching  scene,  will  commend  me  to  their 
wives  as  a  pattern  of  childlike  simple  tenderness." 

Some  persons  were  just  then  going  by  ;  she  caressed  him  in  the  most 
graceful  way  ;  and  he,  to  avoid  giving  scandal,  was  constrained  to 
play  the  part  of  the  patient  husband.  Then  she  made  faces  at  the 
people,  when  their  backs  were  turned  ;  and,  in  the  wildest  humor, 
continued  to  commit  all  sorts  of  improprieties,  till  at  last  he  was 
obliged  to  promise  that  he  would  not  go  that  day,  or  the  morrow,  or 
the  next  day. 

"  You  are  a  true  clod  !  "  said  she,  quitting  him  ;  "  and  I  am  but  a 
fool  to  spend  so  much  kindness  on  you."  She  arose  with  some  vexa- 
tion, and  walked  a  few  steps,  then  turned  round  laughing,  and  cried  : 
"I  believe  it  is  just  that,  after  all,  that  makes  me  so  crazy  about  thee, 


BOOK  n.  CHAPTER  XII.  103 

I  will  but  go  and  seek  my  knitting-needles  and  ni)-  stocking,  that  I 
may  have  something  to  do.  Stay  there,  and  let  me  find  the  stone  man 
still  upon  the  stone  bench  when  1  come  back." 

She  cast  a  sparkling  glance  on  him,  and  went  into  the  house.  He 
had  no  call  to  follow  her  ;  on  the  contrary,  her  conduct  had  excited 
fresh  aversion  in  him  ;  yet  he  rose  from  the  bench  to  go  after  her,  not 
well  knowing  why. 

He  was  just  entering  the  door,  when  Melina  passed  by,  and  spoke 
to  him  in  a  respectful  tone,  asking  his  pardon  for  the  somewhat  too 
harsh  expressions  he  had  used  in  their  late  discussion.  "  You  will 
not  take  it  ill  of  me,"  continued  he,  "  if  I  appear  perhaps  too  fretful 
in  my  present  circumstances.  The  charge  of  providing  for  a  wife, 
perhaps  soon  for  a  child,  forbids  me  from  day  to  day  to  live  at  peace, 
or  spend  my  tiiue,  as  you  may  do,  in  the  enjoyment  of  pleasant  feel- 
ings. Consider,  I  pray  you  ;  and,  if  possible,  do  put  me  in  possession 
of  that  stage  machinery  that  is  lying  here.  I  shall  not  be  your  debtor 
long,  and  I  shall  be  obliged  to  you  while  I  live." 

Our  friend,  unwilling  to  be  kept  upon  the  threshold,  over  which 
an  irresistible  impulse  was  drawing  him  at  that  moment  to  Philina, 
answered,  with  an  absent  mind,  eager  to  be  gone,  and  surprised  into 
a  transient  feeling  of  good- will  :  "  If  I  can  make  you  happy  and  con- 
tented by  doing  this,  I  will  hesitate  no  longer.  Go  you  and  put 
everything  to  rights.  I  shall  be  prepared  this  evening,  or  to-morrow 
morning  to  pay  the  money."  He  then  gave  his  hand  to  Melina  in 
confirmation  of  his  promise,  and  was-  very  glad  to  see  him  hastily 
proceed  along  the  street  ;  but,  alas,  his  entrance,  which  he  now 
thought  sure,  was  a  second  time  prohibited,  and  more  disagreeably 
than  at  first. 

A  young  man,  with  a  bundle  on  his  back,  came  walking  fast  along 
the  street,  and  advanced  to  Wilhelm,  who  at  once  recognized  him  for 
Friedrich.  "  Here  am  1  again  !  "  cried  he,  looking  with  his  large  blue 
eyes  joyfully  up  and  down,  over  all  the  windows  of  the  house. 
"  Where  is  Mamsell?  Devil  take  me,  if  I  can  stroll  about  the  world 
any  longer  without  seeing  her.'' 

The  landlord,  joining  them  at  this  instant,  replied  that  she  was 
above  ;  Friedrich  with  a  few  bounds  was  upstairs,  and  Wilhelm  con- 
tinued standing  as  if  rooted  to  the  threshold.  At  the  first  instant  he 
was  tempted  to  pluck  the  younker  back,  and  drag  him  down  by  the 
hair  ;  then  all  at  once  the  spasm  of  a  sharp  jealousy  stopped  the  cur- 
rent of  his  spirits  and  ideas  ;  and,  as  he  gradually  recovered  from 
this  stupefaction,  there  came  over  him  a  splenetic  fit  of  restlessness, 
a  general  discomfort,  such  as  he  had  never  felt  in  his  life  before. 

He  went  up  to  his  room,  and  found  Mignon  busy  writing.  For 
some  time,  the  creature  had  been  laboring  with  great  diligence  in 
writing  everything  she  knew  by  heart,  giving  always  to  her  master 
and  friend  the  papers  to  correct.  She  was  indefatigable,  and  of  good 
comprehension  ;  but  still  her  letters  were  irregular,  and  her  lines 


104  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

crooked.  Here  too  the  body  seemed  to  contradict  the  mind.  In  his 
nsual  moods,  Wilhehn  took  no  small  pleasure  in  the  child's  attention  ; 
but  at  the  present  moment  he  regarded  little  what  she  showed  him — 
a  piece  of  neglect  which  she  felt  the  more  acutely,  as  on  this  occasion 
she  conceived  her  work  had  been  accomplished  with  peculiar  success. 

Wilhelm's  unrest  drove  him  up  and  down  the  passages  of  the  house, 
and  finally  again  to  the  street  door.  A  rider  was  just  prancing  to- 
Avards  it,  a  man  of  good  appearance,  of  middle  age,  and  a  brisk  con- 
tented look.  The  landlord  ran  to  meet  him,  holding  out  his  hand  as 
to  an  old  acquaintance.  "Ay,  Herr  Stallmeister,"  cried  he,  "have 
we  the  pleasure  to  see  you  again  ?  " 

"I  am  just  going  to  bait  with  you,"  replied  the  stranger,  "and 
then  along  to  the  estate,  to  get  matters  put  in  order  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble.    The  count  is  coming  over  to-morrow  with  his  lady  ;  they  mean 

to  stay  a  while  to  entertain  the  Prince  von  in  their  best  style  : 

he  intends  to  fix  his  headquarters  in  this  neighborhood  for  some 
time." 

"  It  is  pity,"  said  the  landlord,  "  that  you  cannot  stop  with  us  :  we 
have  good  company  in  the  house."  The  ostler  came  running  out, 
and  took  the  horse  from  the  stallmeister,  who  continued  talking  in 
the  door  with  the  landlord,  and  now  and  then  giving  a  look  at  Wil- 
lielm. 

Our  friend,  observing  that  he  formed  the  topic  of  their  conversa- 
tion, went  away,  and  walked  up  and  down  the  streets. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


In  the  restless  vexation  of  his  present  humor,  it  came  into  his  head 
to  go  and  see  the  old  harper,  hoping  by  his  music  to  scarce  away  the 
evil  spirits  that  tormented  him.  On  askiug  for  the  man,  he  was  di- 
rected to  a  mean  public  house  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  litile  town  ; 
and  having  mounted  upstairs  there  to  the  very  garret,  his  car  caught 
the  fine  twanging  of  the  haip  coming  from  a  little  room  before  him. 
They  were  heart-moving,  mournful  tones,  accompanied  by  a  sad  and 
dreary  singing.  WillieJm  glided  to  the  door;  and,  as  the  good  old 
man  was  performing  a  sort  of  voluntary,  the  few  stfyizas  of  which, 
sometimes  chanted,  sometimes  in  recitative,  were  repeated  more  than 
once,  our  friend  succeeded,  after  listening  for  a  while,  in  gathering 
nearly  this  : 

Who  never  ate  his  bread  in  sorrow. 

Who  never  si)ent  Ibe  (lRrk>=onie  liours 
Weeping  and  watching  for  tlie  morrow. 

He  kriowe  ye  not.  ye  gloomj'  powers. 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XIII.  105 

To  earth,  this  wear}'  earth,  ye  bring  ns, 

To  guilt  ye  let  us  heedless  go. 
Then  leave  repentance  fierce  to  wring  us : 

A  moment's  guilt,  an  age  of  woe  ! 

The  heart-sick  plaintive  sound  of  the  lament  pierced  deep  into  the 
soul  of  the  hearer.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  tl^e  old  man  were  often 
stopped  from  proceeding  by  his  tears  ;  his  harp  would  alone  be  heard 
for  a  time,  till  his  voice  again  joined  it  in  low  broken  tones.  Wil- 
helm  stood  by  the  door  ;  he  was  -aruch  moved  ;  the  mourning  of  the 
stranger  had  again  opened  the  avenues  of  his  heart ;  he  could  not 
resist  the  claim  of  sympathy,  or  restrain  the  tears  which  this  woe- 
begone complaint  at  last  called  forth.  All  the  pains  that  pressed 
upon  his  soul  seemed  now  at  once  to  loosen  from  their  hold  ;  he  aban- 
doned himself  without  reserve  to  the  feelings  of  the  moment.  Push- 
ing up  the  door,  he  stood  before  the  harper.  The  old  man  was  sitting 
on  a  mean  bed,  the  only  seat,  or  article  of  furniture,  which  his  miser- 
able room  afforded. 

"  What  feelings  hast  thou  not  awakened  in  me,  good  old  man  ! " 
exclaimed  he.  ' '  All  that  was  lying  frozen  at  my  heart  thou  hast 
melted,  and  put  in  motion.  Let  me  not  disturb  thee  ;  but  continue 
in  solacing  thy  own  sorrow,  to  confer  happiness  upon  a  friend."  The 
harper  was  about  to  rise,  and  say  something  ;  but  Wilhelm  hindered 
him,  for  he  had  noticed  in  the  morning  that  the  old  man  did  not  like 
to  speak.     He  sat  down  by  him  on  the  straw  bed. 

The  old  man  wiped  his  eyes,  and  asked,  with  a  friendly  smile, 
"  How  came  you  hither  ?  I  meant  to  wait  upon  you  in  the  evening 
again." 

"  We  are  more  quiet  here,"  said  Wilhelm.  *'  Sing  to  me  what  thou 
pleasest,  what  accords  with  thy  own  mood  of  mind,  only  proceed  as 
if  I  were'not  by.  It  seems  to  me  that  to-day  thou  canst  not  fail  to 
suit  me.  I  think  thee  very  happy  that,  in  solitude,  thou  canst  employ 
and  entertain  thyself  so  pleasantly  ;  that,  being  everywhere  a  stranger, 
thou  findest  in  thy  own  heart  the  most  agreeable  society." 

The  old  man  looked  upon  his  strings,  and,  after  touching  them 
softly  by  way  of  prelude,  he  commenced  and  sang  : 

Who  longs  in  solitude  to  live, 

Ah  !  soon  his  wish  will  gain  ; 
Men  hope  and  love,  men  get  and  give, 

And  leave  him  to  his  pain. 
Yes,  leave  me  to  my  moan  \ 

"When  from  my  bed 

You  all  are  fled, 
I  still  am  not  alone. 

The  lover  glides  with  footstep  light  : 

His  love,  is  she  not  waiting  there  ? 
So  glides  to  meet  me,  da}'  and  night, 

la  solitude  my  care, 

In  solitude  my  woe  ; 


106  MEISIER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

True  solitude  I  then  shall  know 

When  lying  in  my  grave, 

When  lying  in  my  grave, 
And  grief  has  let  me  go. 

We  might  describe  with  great  prolixity,  and  yet  fail  to  express  the" 
charms  of  the  siugulsy  conversation,  which  Wilhelm  carried  on  with 
this  wayfaring  stranger.  To  every  observation  which  our  friend 
addressed  to  him,  the  old  man,  with  the  nicest  accordance,  answered 
in  some  melody,  which  awakene*  all  the  cognate  emotions,  and 
opened  a  wide  field  to  the  imagination. 

Whoever  has  happened  to  assist  at  a  meeting  of  certain  devout 
people,  who  conceive  that,  in  a  state  of  separation  from  tlie  Church, 
they  can  edify  each  other  in  a  purer,  more  affecting,  and  more  spirit- 
ual manner,  may  form  to  himself  some  conception  of  the  present 
scene.  He  will  recollect  how  the  leader  of  the  meeting  would  append 
to  his  words  some  verse  of  a  song,  that  raised  the  soul  till,  as  he 
wished,  she  took  wing  ;  how  another  of  the  flock  would  ere  long  sub- 
join, in  a  different  tune,  some  verse  of  a  different  song  ;  and  to  this 
again  a  third  would  link  some  verse  of  a  third  song  ;  by  which  means 
the  kindred  ideas  of  the  songs  to  which  the  verses  belonged  were 
indeed  suggested,  yet  each  passage  by  its  new  combination  became 
new  and  individualized,  as  if  it  had  been  first  composed  that  moment  ; 
and  thus,  from  a  well-known  circle  of  ideas,  from  well-known  songs 
and  sayings,  there  was  formed,  for  that  particular  society  in  that  par 
ticular  time,  an  original  whole,  by  means  of  which  their  minds  were 
animated,  strengthened  and  refreshed.  So  likewise  did  the  old  man 
edify  his  guest ;  by  known  and  unknown  songs  and  passages,  he 
brought  feelings  near  and  distant,  emotions  sleeping  and  awake,  pleas- 
ant and  painful,  into  a  circulation,  from  which,  in  Wilhelm's  actual 
state,  the  best  effects  might  be  anticipated. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


AccOKDiNGLY,  in  walking  back,  he  began  to  think  with  greater 
earnestness  than  ever  on  his  present  situation  ;  he  had  reached  home 
with  the  firm  purpose  of  altering  it,  when  the  landlord  disclosed  to 
him,  by  way  of  secret,  that  Mademoiselle  Philiua  had  made  a  conquest 
of  the  count's  stallmeister  ;  who,  after  executing  his  commission  at 
his  master's  estate,  had  returned  in  the  greatest  haste,  and  was  even 
now  partaking  of  a  good  supper  with  her  up  in  her  chamber. 

At  this  very  moment  Melina  came  in  with  a  notary  ;  they  went 
into  Wilhelm's  chamber  together,  where  the  latter,  though  with  some 
hesitation,  made  his  promise  good  ;  gave  a  draft  of  three  hundred 
crowns  to  Melina,  who,  handing  it  to  the  lawyer,  received  in  return 


BOOK  I.  CHAPTER  XIV.  107 

a  note  acknowledging  the  sale  of  the  whole  theatrical  apparatus,  and 
engaging  to  deliver  it  next  morning. 

Scarcely  had  they  parted,  when  Wilhelm  heard  a  cry  of  horror  ris- 
ing from  some  quarter  of  the  house.  He  caught  the  sound  of  a  young 
voice,  uttering  menacing  and  furious  tones,  which  were  ever  and 
anon  choked  by  immoderate  weeping  and  howling.  He  observed 
this  frantic  noise  move  hastily  from  above  ;  go  past  liis  door,  and 
down  to  the  lower  part  of  the  house. 

Curiosity  enticing  our  friend  to  follow  it,  he  found  Friedrich  in  a 
species  of  delirium.  The  boy  was  weeping,  grinding  his  teeth, 
stamping  with  his  feet,  threatening  with  clenched  fists  ;  he  appeared 
beside  himself  from  fury  and  vexation.  Mignon  was  standing  op- 
posite him,  looking  on  with  astonishment.  The  landlord,  in  some 
degree,  explained  this  phenomenon. 

The  boy,  he  said,  being  well  received  at  his  return  by  Philina, 
seemed  quite  merry  and  contented  ;  he  had  kept  singing,  and  jump- 
ing about,  till  the  time  when  Philina  grew  acquainted  with  the 
stallmeister.  Then,  however,  this  half-grown  younker  had  begun  to 
show  his  indignation,  to  slam  the  doors,  and  run  up  and  down  in  the 
highest  dudgeon.  Philina  had  ordered  him  to  wait  at  table  that  eve- 
ning ;  upon  which  he  had  grown  still  sulkier  and  more  indignant  ; 
till  at  last,  carrying  up  a  plate  with  a  ragout,  instead  of  setting  it 
upon  the  table,  he  had  thrown  the  whole  between  mademoiselle  and 
her  guest,  who  were  sitting  moderately  close  together  at  the  time  ; 
and  the  stallmeister,  after  two  or  three  hearty  cuSs,  had  then  kicked 
him  out  of  the  room.  He,  the  landlord,  had  himself  helped  to  clean 
both  of  them,  and  certainly  their  clothes  had  suffered  much. 

On  hearing  of  the  good  effect  of  his  revenge,  the  boy  began  to  laugh 
aloud,  whilst  the  tears  were  still  running  down  his  cheeks.  He 
heartily  rejoiced  for  a  time,  till  the  disgrace  which  he  had  suffered 
from  the  stronger  party  once  more  came  into  his  head,  and  he  began 
afresh  to  howl  and  threaten. 

Wilhelm  stood  meditating,  and  ashamed  at  this  spectacle.  It  re- 
flected back  to  him  his  own  feelings,  in  coarser  and  exaggerated 
features  :  he  too  was  inflamed  with  a  fierce  jealousy  ;  and,  had  not 
decency  restrained  him,  he  would  willingly  have  satisfied  his  wild 
humor  ;  witli  malicious  spleen,  would  have  abused  the  object  of  his 
passion,  and  called  out  his  rival  ;  he  could  have  crushed  in  pieces  all 
the  people  round  him  ;  they  seemed  as  if  standing  there  but  to  vex 
him. 

Laertes  also  had  come  in,  and  heard  the  story  ;  he  roguishly 
spurred  on  the  irritated  boy,  who  was  now  asserting  with  oatlis  that 
he  would  make  the  stallmeister  give  him  satisfaction  ;  that  he  had. 
never  yet  let  any  injury  al)ide  with  him  ;  that  .should  the  man  refuse, 
there  were  other  ways  of  taking  vengeance. 

This  was  the  very  business  for  Laertes.  He  went  upstairs,  with 
a  solemn  countenance,  to  call  out  the  stallmeister  in  the  boy's  name, 


108  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  This  is  a  pleasant  thing,"  said  the  stallmeister  :  "  such  a  joke  as 
this  I  had  scarcely  promised  myself  to-night."  They  went  down, 
and  Philina  followed  them.  "  My  son,"  said  the  stallmeister  to 
Friedrich,  "thou  art  a  brave  lad,  and  I  do  not  hesitate  to  fight  thee. 
Only  as  our  years  and  strength  are  unequal,  and  the  attempt  a  little 
dangerous  on  that  account,  I  propose  a  pair  of  foils  in  preference  to 
other  weapons.  We  can  rub  the  buttons  of  them  with  a  piece  of 
chalk  ;  and  whoever  marks  upon  the  other's  coat  the  first  or  the  most 
thrusts,  shall  be  held  the  victor,  and  be  treated  by  the  other  with  the 
best  wine  that  can  be  had  in  town." 

Laertes  decided  that  the  proposition  might  be  listened  to  ;  Fried- 
rich  obeyed  him  as  his  tutor.  The  foils  were  produced  ;  Philina  took 
a  seat,  went  on  with  her  knitting,  and  looked  at  the  contending 
parties  with  the  greatest  peace  of  mind. 

The  stallmeister,  who  could  fence  very  prettily,  was  complaisant 
enough  to  spare  his  adversary,  and  to  let  a  few  chalk-scores  be  marked 
upon  his  coat ;  after  which  the  two  embraced,  and  wine  was  ordered. 
The  stallmeister  took  the  liberty  of  asking  Friedrich's  parentage  and 
history  ;  and  Friedrich  told  him  a  long  story,  which  had  often  been 
repeated  already,  and  which,  on  some  other  opportunity,  we  purpose 
communicating  to  our  readers. 

To  Wilhelm,  in  the  meantime,  this  contest  completed  the  repre- 
sentation of  his  own  state  of  mind.  He  could  not  but  perceive  that 
he  would  willingly  have  taken  up  a  foil  against  the  stallmeister  ;  a 
sword  still  more  willingly,  though  evidently  much  his  inferior  in  the 
science  of  defense.  Yet  he  deigned  not  to  cast  one  look  on  Philina  ; 
he  was  on  his  guard  against  any  word  or  movement  that  could  possi- 
bly betray  his  feelings  ;  and  after  having  once  or  twice  done  justice 
to  the  health  of  the  duelists,  he  hastened  to  his  own  room,  where  a 
thousand  painful  thoughts  came  pressing  round  him. 

He  called  to  memory  the  time  when  his  spirit,  rich  in  hope,  and 
full  of  boundless  aims,  was  raised  aloft,  and  encircled  with  the  live- 
liest enjoyments  of  every  kind  as  with  its  proper  element.  He  now 
clearly  saw,  that  of  late  he  had  fallen  into  a  broken  wandering  path, 
where,  if  he  tasted,  it  was  but  in  drops  what  he  once  quaffed  in  un- 
restricted measure.  But  he  could  not  clearly  see  what  insatiable  want 
it  was  that  nature  had  made  the  law  of  his  being  ;  and  how  this  want 
had  been  only  set  on  edge,  half  satisfied,  and  misdirected  by  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  life. 

It  will  not  surprise  us,  therefore,  that,  in  considering  his  situation, 
and  laboring  to  extricate  himself,  he  fell  into  the  greatest  perplexity. 
It  was  not  enough,  that,  by  his  f riend.ship  for  Laertes,  his  attp.climent 
to  Philina,  his  concern  for  Mignon,  he  had  been  detained  longer  than 
was  proper  in  a  place  and  society  where  he  could  cherish  his  darling 
inclination,  content  liis  wishes  as  it  were  by  stealth,  and  without  pro- 
posing any  object,  again  pursue  his  early  dreams.  Thes(!  ties  he 
believed  himself  possessed  of  force  enough  to  break  asunder ;  had 


mOK  It  CMAPTEB  XIV.  109 

there  been  nothing  more  to  hold  him,  he  could  have  gone  at  once. 
But,  only  a  few  moments  ago,  he  had  entered  into  money  transactions 
with  Melina  ;  he  had  seen  that  mysterious  old  man,  the  engima  of 
whose  history  he  longed  with  unspeakable  desire  to  clear.  Yet  of 
this  too,  after  much  balancing  of  reasons,  he  at  length  determined,  or 
thought  he  had  determined,  that  it  should  not  keep  him  back.  "I 
must  go,"  he  exclaimed;  "1  will  go."  He  threw  himself  into  a 
chair  ;  he  felt  greatly  moved.  Mignon  came  in,  and  asked,  whether 
she  might  help  to  undress  him?  Her  manner  was  still  and  shy  ;  it 
had  grieved  her  to  the  quick  to  be  so  abruptly  dismissed  by  him 
before. 

Nothing  is  more  touching  than  the  first  disclosure  of  a  love  which 
has  been  nursed  in  silence,  of  a  faith  grown  strong  in  secret,  and 
which  at  last  comes  forth  in  the  hour  of  need,  and  reveals  itself  to 
him  who  formerly  has  reckoned  it  of  small  account.  The  bud,  which 
had  been  closed  so  long  and  firmly,  was  now  r\\)e,  to  burst  its  swath- 
ings,  and  Willielm's  heart  could  never  have  been  readier  to  welcome 
the  impressions  of  affection. 

She  stood  before  him,  and  noticed  his  disquietude.  "Master!'* 
she  cried,  "if  thou  art  unhappy,  what  will  become  of  Mignon?" 
"  Dear  little  creature,"  said  he,  taking  her  hands,  "  thou  too  art  part 
of  my  anxieties.  1  must  go  hence."  She  looked  at  his  eyes,  glisten- 
ing with  restrained  tears  ;  and  knelt  down  with  vehemence  before 
him.  He  kept  her  hands  ;  she  laid  her  head  tipon  his  knees,  and  re- 
mained quite  still.  He  played  with  her  hair,  patted  her,  and  spoke 
kindly  to  her.  She  continued  motionless  for  a  considerable  time.  At 
last  he  felt  a  sort  of  palpitating  movement  in  her,  which  began  very 
softly,  and  then  by  degrees  with  increasing  violence  diffused  itself 
over  all  her  frame.  "  What  ails  thee,  Mignon?"  cried  he  ;  "what 
ails  thee?"  She  raised  her  little  head,  looked  at  him,  and  all  at  once 
laid  her  hand  upon  her  heart,  with  the  countenance  of  one  repressing 
the  utterance  of  pain.  He  raised  her  up,  and  she  fell  upon  his  breast ; 
he  pressed  her  towards  him,  and  kissed  her.  She  rejilied  not  by  any 
pressure  of  the  hand,  by  any  motion  whatever.  She  held  firmly 
against  her  heart  ;  and  all  at  once  gave  a  cry,  which  was  accompanied 
by  spasmodic  movements  of  the  body.  She  started  itp,  and  immedi- 
ately fell  down  before  him,  as  if  broken  in  every  joint.  It  was  an 
excruciating  moment  !  "My  child  !"  cried  he,  raising  her  up,  and 
clasping  her  fast;  "my  child,  what  ails  thee?"  The  palpitations 
continued,  spreading  from  the  heart  over  all  the  lax  and  powerless 
limbs  ;  she  was  merely  hanging  in  his  arms.  All  at  once  she  again 
became  quite  stiff,  like  one  enduring  the  sharpest  corporeal  agony  ; 
and  soon  with  a  new  vehemence  all  her  frame  once  more  became 
alive  ;  and  she  threw  herself  about  his  neck,  like  a  bent  spring  clos- 
ing ;  while  in  her  soul,  as  it  were,  a  strong  rent  took  place,  and  at  the 
same  moment  a  stream  of  tears  flowed  from  her  shut  eyes  into  his 
hosom.     He  held  her  fast.     She  wept,  and  no  tongue  can  express  the 


1  ]  0  MElSfER  '8  A  PPRENTlCESBlP. 

force  o£  these  tears.  Her  long  hair  had  loosened,  and  was  hanging 
down  before  her  ;  it  seemed  as  if  her  whole  being  was  melting  inces- 
santly into  a  brook  of  tears.  Her  rigid  limbs  were  again  become 
relaxed  ;  her  inmost  soul  was  pouring  itself  forth  ;  in  the  wild  con- 
fusion of  the  moment,  Wilhelm  was  afraid  she  would  dissolve  in  his 
arms,  and  leave  nothing  there  for  him  to  grasp.  He  held  her  faster 
and  faster.  "My  child!"  cried  he,  "my  child!  Thou  art  indeed 
mine,  if  that  word  can  comfort  thee.  Thou  art  mine  !  I  will  keep 
thee,  I  will  never  forsake  thee  !  "  Her  tears  continued  flowing.  At 
last  she  raised  herself  ;  a  faint  gladne.ss  shone  upon  her  face.  "  My 
father  !  "  cried  she,  "  thou  wilt  not  forsake  me  ?  Wilt  be  my  father  V 
I  am  thy  child  !  " 

Softly,  at  this  moment,  the  harp  began  to  sound  before  the  door  ; 
the  old  man  brought  his  most  affecting  songs  as  an  evening  offering 
to  our  friend,  who  holding  his  child  ever  faster  in  his  arms,  enjoyed 
the  most  pure  and  undescribable  felicity. 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  1.  Ill 


BOOK    III 


CHAPTER  I.  f 

Know'st  thou  the  land  where  lemon-trees  do  bloom,  i 

And  oranges  like  gold  in  leafy  gloom  ; 
A  gentle  wind  from  deep  blue  heaven  blows, 
The  myrtle  thick,  and  high  the  laurel  grows  f 
Know'st  thou  it,  then  ? 

'Tis  there  !  'tis  there, 
O  my  belov'd  one,  I  with  thee  would  go  I 

Know'st  thou  the  house,  its  porch  with  pillars  tall  ? 
The  rooms  do  glitter,  glitters  bright  the  hall, 
And  marble  t^tatucs  stand,  and  look  me  on  : 
What's  this,  poor  child,  to  thee  they've  done  ? 
Know'st  thou  it,  then  ? 

'Tis  there  !  'tis  there, 
O  my  protector,  I  with  thee  would  go  ! 

Know'st  thou  the  mountain,  bridge  that  hangs  on  cloud  ? 
The  mules  in  mist  grope  o'er  the  torrent  loud, 
In  caves  lie  coil'd  tne  dragon's  ancient  brood, 
The  crag  leaps  down  and  over  it  the  flood  : 
Know'st  thou  it,  then  ? 

'Tis  there  !  'tis  there 
Our  way  runs  ;  O  my  father,  wilt  thou  go  ? 

Next  morning,  on  looking  for  Mignon  about  the  house,  Wilhelm 
did  not  find  her ;  but  was  informed  that  she  had  gone  out  early  with 
Melina,  who  had  risen  betimes  to  receive  the  wardrobe  and  other 
apparatus  of  his  theater. 

After  the  space  of  some  hours,  Wilhelm  heard  the  sound  of  music 
before  his  door.  At  first  he  thouglit  it  was  the  harper  come  again  to 
visit  him  ;  but  he  soon  distinguished  the  tones  of  a  cithern,  and  the 
voice  which  began  to  sing  was  Mignon's.  Wilhelm  opened  the  door  ; 
the  child  came  in,  and  sang  him  the  song  we  have  just  given  above. 

The  music  and  general  expression  of  it  pleased  our  friend  extreme- 
ly, though  he  could  not  understand  all  the  words.  He  made  her  once 
more  repeat  the  stanzas,  and  explain  them  ;  he  wrote  them  down,  and 
translated  them  into  his  native  language.  But  the  originality  of  its 
turns  he  could  imitate  only  from  afar  ;  its  childlike  innocence  of  ex- 
pression vanished  from  it  in  the  process  of  reducing  its  broken  phrase- 
ology to  uniformity,  and  combining  its  disjointed  parts.  The  chanii 
of  the  tune,  moreover,  was  entirely  incomparable. 

She  began  every  verse  in  a  stately  and  solemn  manner,  as  if   she 


112  MEI8TER' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

wished  to  draw  attention  towards  something  wonderful,  as  if  she  had 
something  weighty  to  communicate.  In  the  third  line,  her  tones  be- 
came deeper  and  gloomier  ;  the  Knoio'st  thou  it,  then  ?  was  uttered 
with  a  show  of  mystery  and  eager  circumspectness  ;  in  the  'Tis  there  ! 
'tis  there/  lay  a  boundless  longing  ;  and  her  I  with  thee  would  go!  she 
modified  at  each  repetition,  so  that  now  it  appeared  to  entreat  and  Im- 
plore, now  to  impel  and  persuade. 

On  finishing  her  song,  for  the  second  time,  she  stood  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment, looked  keenly  at  Wilhelm,  and  asked  him,  "  Know'st  thou  the 
land?"  "It  must  mean  Italy,"  said  Wilhelm  :  "  where  didst  thou 
get  the  little  song ''."  "  Italy  !  "  said  Mignon  with  an  earnest  air  :  "  if 
thou  go  to  Italy,  take  me  along  with  thee  ;  for  I  am  too  coM  here." 
"  Hast  thou  been  there  already,  little  dear?"  said  Wilhelm.  But  the 
child  was  silent,  and  nothing  more  could  be^ot  out  of  her. 

Melina  entered  now  ;  he  looked  at  the  cithern  ;  was  glad  that  she 
had  rigged  it  up  again  so  prettily.  The  instrument  had  been  among 
Melina's  stage-gear  ;  Mignon  had  begged  it  of  him  in  the  morning  : 
and  then  gone  to  the  old  harper.  On  this  occasion,  she  had  shown  a 
talent  she  was  not  before  suspected  of  possessing. 

Melina  had  already  got  possession  of  his  wardrobe,  with  all  that 
pertained  to  it ;  some  members  of  the  town  magistracy  had  promised 
him  permission  to  act,  for  a  time,  in  the  place.  He  was  now  return- 
ing with  a  merry  heart  and  a  cheerful  look.  His  nature  seemed  a] 
together  changed ;  he  was  soft,  courteous  to  every  one,  nay,  fond  of 
obliging,  and  almost  attractive.  He  was  happy,  he  said,  at  now  be- 
ing able  to  afford  employment  to  his  friends,  who  had  hitherto  lain 
idle  and  embarrassed  ;  sorry,  however,  that  at  first  he  could  not  have 
it  in  his  power  to  remunerate  the  excellent  actors  whom  fortune  had 
offered  him,  in  a  style  corresponding  to  their  talents  and  capacities  ; 
being  under  the  neces.sity,  before  all  other  things,  of  discharging  his 
debt  to  so  generous  a  friend  as  Wilhelm  had  proved  himself  to  be. 

"  I  cannot  describe,"  said  he  to  Wilhelm,  "the  friendliness  which 
you  have  .shown,  in  helping  me  forward  to  the  management  of  a 
theater.  When  I  found  you  here,  I  was  in  a  very  curious  predica- 
ment. You  recollect  how  strongly  I  displayed  to  you,  on  our  first  ac- 
quaintance, my  aversion  to  the  stage  ;  and  yet,  on  being  married,  I 
was  forced  to  look  about  for  a  place  in  some  theater,  out  of  love  to  my 
wife,  who  promised  to  herself  much  joy  and  great  applause,  if  so  en- 
gaged. I  could  find  none,  at  least  no  constant  one  ;  but  in  return  I 
luckily  fell  in  with  some  commercial  men,  who,  in  extraordinary  cases, 
were  enabled  to  employ  a  person  that  could  handle  his  pen,  that  un- 
derstood French,  and  was  not  without  a  little  skill  in  ciphering.  I 
managed  pretty  well  in  this  way  for  a  time ;  I  was  tolerably  paid  ; 
got  about  me  many  things  which  I  had  need  of,  and  did  not  feel 
ashamed  of  my  work.  But  these  commissions  of  my  patrons  came  to 
an  end  ;  they  could  afford  me  no  permanent  establishment  ;  and  ever 
since,  my  wife  has  continued  urging  me  still  more  to  go  upon  the 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  I.  113 

/ 
stage  again  ;  though,  at  present,  alas,  her  own  situation  is  none  of 
the  favorablest  for  exhibiting  herself,  with  honor,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
public.  But  now,  I  hope,  the  establishment,  which  by  your  kind 
help  I  have  the  means  of  setting  up,  will  prove  a  good  beginning  for 
me  and  mine  ;  you  1  shall  thank  for  all  my  future  happiness,  let  mat- 
ters turn  out  as  tliey  will." 

Wilhelm  listened  to  him  with  contentment :  the  whole  fraternity 
of  players  were  likewise  moderately  satisfied  with  the  declarations  of 
the  new  manager  ;  they  secretly  rejoiced  that  an  offer  of  employment 
had  occurred  so  soon  ;  and  were  disposed  to  put  up,  at  first,  with  a 
smaller  salary  ;  the  rather,  that  most  of  them  regarded  the  present 
one,  so  unexpectedly  placed  within  their  reach,  as  a  kind  of  supple- 
ment, on  which  a  short  while  ago  they  could  not  count.  Melina  made 
haste  to  profit  by  this  favorable  temper  ;  he  endeavored  in  a  sly  way 
to  get  a  little  talk  with  each  in  private  ;  and  ere  long  had,  by  various 
methods,  so  cockered  them  all,  that  they  did  not  hesitate  to  strike  a 
bargain  with  him,  without  loss  of  time  ;  scarcely  thinking  of  this  new 
engagement,  or  reckoning  themselves  secure  at  worst  of  getting  free 
again  after  six  weeks'  warning. 

The  terms  were  now  to  be  reduced  to  proper  form,  and  Melina  was 
considering  with  what  pieces  he  would  first  entice  the  public,  when 
a  courier  riding  up  informed  the  stallmeister,  that  his  lord  and  lady 
were  at  hand  ;    on  which  the  latter  ordered  out  his  horses. 

In  a  short  time  after  this,  the  coach  with  its  masses  of  luggage 
rolled  in  ;  two  servants  sprang  down  from  the  coach-box  before  the 
inn  ;  and  Philina,  according  to  her  custom,  foremost  in  the  way  of 
novelties,  placed  herself  within  the  door. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  said  tli5  countess  entering  the  house. 

"  An  actress,  at  your  excellency's  service,"  was  the  answer  ;  while 
the  cheat,  with  a  most  innocent  air,  and  looks  of  great  humility, 
courtesied,  and  kissed  the  lady's  gown. 

The  count,  on  seeing  some  other  persons  standing  round,  who  also 
signified  that  they  were  players,  inquired  about  the  strength  of  their 
company,  their  last  place  of  residence,  their  manager.  "Had  they 
but  been  Frenchmen,"  said  he  to  his  lady,  "  we  might  have  treated 
the  prince  with  an  unexpected  enjoyment,  and  entertained  him  with 
his  favorite  pastime  at  our  house." 

"And  could  we  not,"  said  the  countess,  "get  these  people,  though 
unluckily  they  are  but  Germans,  to  exhibit  with  us  at  the  castle, 
while  the  prince  stays  there  ?  Without  doubt,  they  have  some  degree, 
of  skill.  A  large  party  can  never  be  so  well  amused  with  anything/ 
as  with  a  theater  ;  besides,  the  baron  would  assist  them." 

So  speaking  they  went  upstairs  :  and  Melina  presented  himself 
above,  as  manager.  "  Call  your  folk  together,"  said  the  count,  "  and 
place  them  before  me,  that  I  may  see  what  is  in  them.  I  must  also 
have  the  list  of  pieces  you  profess  to  act." 

Melina,  with  a  low  bow,  hastened  from  the  room,  and  soon  returned 


114  ME18TER'8  APPRENriCESHIP. 

witli  his  actors.  They  advanced  iu  promiscuous  succession  ;  some, 
out  of  too  great  anxiety  to  please,  introduced  themselves  in  a  rather 
sorry  style  ;  the  others,  not  much  better,  by  assuming  an  air  of 
unconcern.  Philina  showed  the  deepest  reverence  to  the  countess, 
who  behaved  with  extreme  graciousness  and  condescension ;  the 
count,  in  the  meantime,  was  mustering  the  rest.  He  questioned 
each  about  his  special  province  of  acting  ;  and  signified  to  Melina, 
that  he  must  rigorously  keep  them  to  their  several  provinces  ;  a  pre-  • 
cept  which  the  manager  received  with  the  greatest  devotion. 

The  count  then  stated  to  each  in  particular  what  he  ought  espe- 
cially to  study,  what  about  his  figure  or  his  postures  ought  to  be 
amended  ;  showed  them  luminously  in  what  points  the  ^jermans 
always  fail  ;  and  displayed  such  extraordinary  knowledge,  that  all 
stood  in  the  deepest  humility,  scarcely  daring  to  draw  their  breath, 
before  so  enlightened  a  critic  and  so  right  honorable  a  patron. 

"  What  fellow  is  that  in  the  corner?"  said  the  count,  looking  at  a 
subject,  who  had  not  yet  been  presented  to  him,  and  who  now 
approached  ;  a  lean  shambling  figure,  with  a  rusty  coat  patched  at 
the  elbows,  and  a  woeful  periwig  covering  his  submissive  head. 

This  person,  whom,  from  the  last  book,  we  know  already  as 
Philina's  darling,  had  been  wont  to  enact  pedants,  tutors  and  poets  ; 
generally  undertaking  parts  in  which  any  cudgeling  or  ducking  was 
to  be  endured.  He  had  trained  himself  to  certain  crouching,  ludi- 
crous, timid  bow» ;  and  his  faltering,  stammering  speech  befitted  the 
characters  he  played,  and  created  laughter  iu  the  audience  ;  so  that 
he  was  always  looked  on  as  a  useful  member  of  the  company,  being 
moreover  very  serviceable  and  obliging.  He  approached  the  count 
in  his  own  peculiar  way  ;  bent  himself  before  him,  and  answered 
every  question  with  the  grimaces  and  gestures  he  was  used  to  on  the 
stage.  The  count  looked  at  him,  for  some  time,  with  an  air  of 
attentive  satisfaction  and  studious  observation  ;  then  turning  to  the 
countess,  "Child,"  said  he,  "consider  this  man  well :  I  will  engage 
for  it,  he  is  a  great  actor,  or  may  become  so."  The  creature  here,  in 
the  fullness  of  his  heart,  made  an  idiotic  bow  ;  the  count  burst  into 
laughing,  and  exclaimed  :  "He  does  it  excellently  well  !  I  bet  this 
fellow  can  act  anything  he  likes  ;  it  is  pity  that  he  has  not  been 
tJready  used  to  something  better." 

So  singular  a  i)repossession  was  extremely  galling  to  the  rest  ; 
Melina  alone  felt  no  vexation,  but  completely  coincided  with  the 
count,  and  answered  with  a  prostrate  look  :  ' '  Alas  !  it  is  too  true  ; 
both  he  and  others  of  us  have  long  stood  in  need  of  such  encourage- 
ment, and  such  a  judge,  as  we  now  find  in  your  excellency." 

"  Is  this  the  whole  company  V"  inquired  the  count. 

"Some  of  them  are  absent,"  said  the  crafty  Melina  ;  "and  at  any 
rate,  if  we  should  meet  with  support,  we  could  soon  collect  abundant 
numbers  from  the  neighborhood." 

Philina  in  the  mean  while  was  saying  to  the  countess  :  ' '  There  is 


BOOK  in.  CHAPTER  I.  115 

a  very  pretty  young  man  above,  who  without  doubt  would  shortly 
become  a  first-rate  amateur. " 

"  Why  does  not  he  appear?"  said  the  countess. 

"  I  will  bring  him,"  crit'd  Philina,  hastening  to  the  door. 

She  found  our  friend  still  occupied  with  Mignon  ;  she  persuaded 
him  to  come  down.  He  followed  her  with  some  reluctance  ;  yet  cu- 
riosity impelled  him  :  for  hearing  that  the  family  were  people  of 
rank,  he  longed  much  to  know  more  of  them.  On  entering  the  room 
his  eyes  met  those  of  the  countess,  which  were  directed  towards  him. 
Philina  led  him  to  the  lady,  while  the  count  was  busied  with  the 
rest.  Wilhelm  made  his  bow  ;  and  replied  to  several  questions  from 
the  fair  dame,  not  without  confusion  of  mind.  Her  beauty  and  youth, 
her  graceful  dignity  and  refined  manner,  made  the  most  delightful 
impression  on  him  ;  and  the  more  so,  as  her  words  and  looks  were 
accompanied  with  a  certain  baslif  ulness,  one  might  almost  say  em- 
barrassment. He  was  likewise  introduced  to  the  count,  who  how- 
ever, took  no  special  notice  of  him  ;  but  went  to  the  window  with 
his  lady,  and  seemed  to  ask  her  about  something.  It  was  easy  to 
observe  that  her  opinion  accorded  strongly  with  his  own  ;  that  she 
even  tried  to  persuade  him,  and  strengthen  him  in  his  intentions. 

In  a  short  while,  he  turned  round  to  the  company,  and  said  :  "  I 
must  not  stay  at  present,  but  I  will  send  a  friend  to  you  ;  and  if  you 
make  reasonable  proposals,  and  will  take  very  great  pains,  I  am  not 
disinclined 'to  let  you  play  at  the  castle." 

All  testified  their  joy  at  this  ;  Philina  in  particular  kissed  the  hands 
of  the  countess  with  the  greatest  vivacity. 

"Look  you,  little  thing,"  said  the  lady,  patting  the  cheeks  of  the 
light-minded  girl,  "look  you,  child,  you  shall  come  to  me  again  ;  I 
will  keep  my  promise  ;  only  you  must  dress  better."  Philina  stated 
in  excuse  that  she  had  little  to  lay  out  upon  her  wardrobe  ;  and  the 
countess  immediately  ordered  her  waiting-maids  to  bring  from  the 
carriage  a  silk  neckerchief  and  an  English  hat,  the  articles  easiest  to 
come  at,  and  give  them  to  her  new  favorite.  The  countess  herself 
then  decked  Philina,  who  continued  very  neatly  to  support,  by  her 
looks  and  conduct,  that  saint-like,  guiltless  character  she  had  assumed 
at  first. 

The  count  took  his  lady's  hand  and  led  her  down.  She  bowed  to 
the  whole  company  with  a  friendly  air,  in  passing  by  them  ;  she 
turned  round  again  towards  Wilhelm,  and  said  to  him,  with  the  most 
gracious  mien  :  "We  shall  soon  meet  again." 

These  happy  prospects  enlivened  the  whole  party  :  every  one  of 
them  gave  free  course  to  his  hopes,  his  wishes,  his  imaginations  ; 
spoke  of  the  parts  he  would  play,  and  the  applause  he  would  acquire. 
Melina  was  considering  how  he  might  still,  by  a  few  speedy  exhibi- 
tions, gain  a  little  money  from  the  people  of  the  town,  before  he  left 
it  ;  while  others  went  into  the  kitchen,  to  order  a  better  dinner  than 
of  late  they  had  been  used  to. 


U6  MEISTER'S  APPBENTICESmP. 


CHAPTER  II. 

After,  a  few  days,  the  baron  came  ;  and  it  Was  not  without  fear 
that  Melina  received  him.  The  count  had  spoken  of  him  as  a  critic  ; 
and  it  might  be  dreaded,  he  would  speedily  detect  the  weakness  of 
the  little  party,  and  see  that  it  formed  no  efficient  troup,  there  being 
scarcely  a  play  which  they  could  act  in  a  suitable  manner.  But  the 
manager,  as  well  as  all  the  members,  were  soon  delivered  from  their 
cares,  on  finding  that  the  baron  was  a  man  who  viewed  the  German 
stage  with  a  most  patriotic  enthusiasm,  to  whom  every  player,  and 
every  comj^any  of  players,  was  welcome  and  agreeable.  He  saluted 
them  with  great  solemnity  ;  was  happy  to  come  upon  a  German  the- 
ater so  unexpectedly,  to  get  connected  with  it,  and  to  introduce  their 
native  mitses  to  the  mansion  of  his  relative.  He  then  pulled  out 
from  his  pocket  a  bundle  of  stitched  papers,  in  which  Melina  hoped 
to  find  the  terms  of  their  contract  specified  ;  but  it  proved  something 
very  different.  It  was  a  drama,  which  the  baron  himself  had  com- 
posed, and  wished  to  have  played  by  them  :  he  requested  their  atten- 
tion while  he  read  it.  Willingly  they  formed  a  circle  round  him  ; 
charmed  at  being  able  with  so  little  trouble  to  secure  the  "favor  of  a 
man  so  important  ;  though  judging  by  the  thickness  of  the  manu- 
script, it  was  clear  that  a  very  long  rehearsal  miglit  be  dreaded. 
Their  apprehensions  were  not  groundless  ;  the  piece  was  written  in 
five  acts,  and  that  sort  of  acts  which  never  have  an  end. 

The  hero  was  an  excellent,  virtuous,  magnanimous  and  at  the  same 
time  misunderstood  and  persecuted  man  ;  this  worthy  person,  after 
many  trials,  gained  the  victory  at  last  over  all  his  enemies  ;  on  whom, 
in  consequence,  the  most  rigorous  poetic  justice  would  have  been  ex- 
ercised, liad  he  not  pardoned  them  on  the  spot. 

While  this  piece  Was  rehearsing,  each  of  the  auditors  had  leisure 
enough  to  think  of  himself,  and  to  mount  up  quite  softly  from  the 
humble  prostration  of  mind,  to  which,  -a  little  while  ago,  he  had  felt 
disposed,  into  a  comfortable  state  of  contentment  with  his  own  gifts 
and  advantages  ;  and  from  this  elevation,  to  discover  the  most  pleas- 
ing prospects  in  the  future.  Such  of  them  as  found  in  the  play  no 
parts  adapted  for  their  own  acting,  internally  pronounced  it  bad,  and 
viewed  the  baron  as  a  miserable  author  ;  while  the  others,  every 
time  they  noticed  any  passage  which  they  hoped  might  procure  them 
a  little  clapping  of  the  hands,  exalted  it  with  the  greatest  praise,  to 
the  immeasurable  satisfaction  of  the  author. 

The  commercial  part  of  their  affair  was  soon  completed.  Melina 
made  an  advantageous  bargain  with  the  baron,  and  contrived  to  keep 
it  secret  from  the  rest. 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  II.  117 

Of  our  friend,  Melina  took  occasion  to  declare  in  passing,  that  he 
seemed  to  be  successfully  qualifying  himself  for  becoming  a  dramatic 
poet,  and  even  to  have  some  capacities  for  being  an  actor.  The  baron 
introduced  liimself  to  Wilhelm  as  a  colleague  ;  and  the  latter  by  and 
by  produced  some  little  pieces,  which,  with  a  few  other  relics,  had 
escaped  by  chance,  on  the  day  when  he  threw  the  greater  part  of  his 
works  into  the  flames.  The  baron  lauded  both  his  pieces  and 
delivery  ;  he  spoke  of  it  as  a,  settled  thing,  that  Wilhelm  should  come 
over  to  the  castle  with  the  rest.  For  all,  at  his  departure,  he  en- 
gaged to  find  the  best  reception,  comfortable  quarters,  a  good  table, 
applauses  and  presents  ;  and  Melina  farther  gave  the  promise  of  a 
certain  modicum  of  pocket  money  to  each. 

It  is  easy  to  conceive  how  this  visit  raised  the  spirits  of  the  party  ; 
instead  of  a  low  and  harassing  situation,  they  now  at  once  saw  hon- 
ors and  enjoyment  before  them.  On  the  score  of  these  great  hopes 
they  already  made  merry  ;  and  each  thought  it  needless  and  stingy 
to  retain  a  single  groscheu  of  money  in  his  purse. 

Meanwhile  our  friend  was  taking  counsel  with  himself,  about  ac- 
companying the  troup  to  the  castle  ;  and  he  found  it,  in  more  than 
one  sense,  advisable  to  do  so.  Melina  was  in  hopes  of  paying  off 
his  debt,  at  least  in  part,  by  this  engagement  ;  and  Wilhelm,  who 
had  come  from  home  to  study  men,  was  unwilling  to  let  slip  this  op- 
portunity of  examining  the  great  world,  where  he  expected  to  obtain 
much  insight  into  life,  into  himself  and  the  dramatic  art.  With  all 
this,  he  durst  not  confess  how  greatly  he  wished  again  to  be  near  the 
beautiful  countess.  He  rather  sought  to  persuade  himself  in  general 
of  the  mighty  advantages,  which  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  world  of  rank  and  wealth  would  procure  for  him.  He  pursued 
his  reflections  on  the  count,  the  countess,  the  baron  ;  on  the  security, 
the  grace  and  propriety  of  their  demeanor  ;  he  exclaimed  with  rapture 
when  alone  : 

"  Thrice  happy  are  they  to  be  esteemed,  whom  their  birth  of  itself 
exalts  above  the  lower  stages  of  mankind  ;  who  do  not  need  to  traverse 
those  perplexities,  not  even  to  skirt  them,  in  which  many  worthy  men 
.so  painfully  consume  the  whole  period  of  life.  Far-extending  and 
-^unerring  must  their  vision  be,  on  that  higher  station  ;  easy  each  step  \ 
I  of  their  progress  in  the  world  1  From  their  very  birth,  they  are ' 
■'  placed  as  it  were  in  a  ship,  which,  in  this  voyage  we  have  all  to 
make,  enables  them  to  profit  by  the  favorable  winds,  and  to  ride  out 
the  cross  ones  ;  while  others,  bare  of  help,  must  wear  their  strength 
away  in  swimming,  .cau  derive  little  profit  from  the  favorable  breeze, 
and  in  the  storm  must  soon  become  exhausted  and  sink  to  the  bottom. 
What  convenience,  what  ease  of  movement  does  a  fortune  we  are 
born  to,  confer  upon  us  !  How  securely  does  a  traffic  flourish,  which 
is  founded  on  a  solid  capital,  where  the  failure  of  one  or  of  many  en- 
terprises does  not  of  necessity  reduce  us  to  inaction  I  Who  can  better 
know  the  worth  and  worthlessness  of  earthly  things,  than  he  that 


118  MEISTER  '8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

lias  had  within  his  choice  the  enjoyment  of  them  from  youth  up- 
wards ;  and  who  can  earlier  guide  his  mind  to  the  useful,  the  neces- 
sary, the  true,  than  he  that  may  convice  himself  of  so  many  errors  in 
an  age  when  his  strength  is  yet  fresh  to  begin  a  new  career  !  " 

Thus  did  ou  friend  cry  joy  to  all  inhabitants  of  the  upper  regions  ; 
and  not  to  them  only,  but  to  all  that  were  permitted  to  approach  their 
circle,  and  draw  water  from  their  wells.  So  he  thanked  his  own 
happy  stars,  that  seemed  preparing  to  grant  this  mighty  blessing  to 
liimself. 

Melina,  in  the  meantime,  was  torturing  his  brains  to  get  the  com- 
pany arranged  according  to  their  several  provinces,  and  each  of  them 
appointed  to  produce  his  own  peculiar  effect.  In  compliance  with  the 
count's  inj  unctions  and  his  own  persuasions,  he  made  many  efforts ;  but 
at  last,- when  it  came  to  the  point  of  execution,  he  was  forced  to  be  con- 
tent, if,  in  so  small  a  troup,  he  found  his  people  willing  to  adjust  them-  , 
selves  to  this  or  that  part,  as  they  best  were  able.  \^lien  matters  would 
admit  of  it,  Laertes  played  the  lover;  Philina  the  lady's  maid;  the  two 
young  girls  took  iip  between  them  the  characters  of  the  artless  and 
tender  loved  ones  ;  the  boisterous  old  gentleman  of  the  piece  was  sure 
to  be  the  best  acted.  IMelina  himself  thought  he  might  come  forth 
as  chevalier  ;  Madam  Melina,  to  her  no  small  sorrow,  was  obliged 
to  satisfy  herself  with  personating  young  wives,  or  even  affectionate 
mothers  ;  and  as  in  the  newer  plays  a  poet  or  pedant  is  rarely  in- 
troduced, and  still  more  rarely  for  the  purpose  of  being  laughed  at, 
the  well-known  favorite  of  the  count  was  now  usually  transformed 
into  president  or  minister  ;  these  being  commonly  set  forth  as  knaves, 
and  severely  handled  in  the  fifth  act.  Melina,  too,  in  the  part  of 
chamberlain  or  the  like,  introduced,  with  great  satisfaction,  the  inep- 
titudes put  into  his  hands  hj  various  honest  Germans,  according  to 
use  and  wont,  in  many  well-accepted  plays  :  lie  delighted  in  these 
characters,  because  he  had  an  opportunity  of  decking  himself  out  in 
a  fashionable  style,  and  was  called  upon  to  assume  the  airs  of  a  court- 
ier, which  he  conceived  himself  to  possess  in  great  perfection. 

It  was  not  long  till  they  were  joined  by  several  actors  from  different 
quarters  ;  who  being  received  without  very  strict  examination,  were 
also  retained  without  very  burdensome  conditions. 

Wilhelm  had  been  more  than  once  assailed  witli  persuasions  from 
Melina  to  undertake  an  amateur  part.  This  he  declined  ;  yet  he  inter- 
ested and  occupied  himself  about  the  general  cause  with  great  alacrity, 
without  our  new  manager  acknowledging  his  labors  in  the  smallest. 
On  the  contrary,  it  seemed  to  be  Melina's  opinion,  that  with  his  office 
he  had  at  the  same  time  picked  up  all  the  necessary  skill  for  carrying 
it  on.  In  particular,  the  task  of  curtailment  formed  one  of  his  most 
pleasing  occupations  ;  he  would  succeed  in  reducing  any  given  piece 
down  to  the  regular  measure  of  time,  without  the  slightest  respect  to, 
proprieties  or  proportions,  or  anything  whatever  but  his  watch.  He 
met  with  great  encouragement  ;  the  public  was  very  much  delighted  ; 


BOOK  III.   CHAPTEli  in.  .  119 

the  most  kuowing   iuliabitants  of    the   burgh   maintained   that  the 
Prince's  theater  itself  was  not  so  well  conducted  as  theirs. 


CHAPTER  III. 


At  last  the  time  arrived  when  the  company  had  to  prejiare  them- 
selves for  traveling,  and  to  expect  the  coaches  and  other  vehicles  that 
were  to  carry  them  to  the  count's  mansion.  Much  altercation  now 
took  place  about  the  mode  of  traveling,  and  who  should  sit  with 
Avhom.  The  ordering  and  distribution  of  the  whole  was  at  length  set- 
tled and  concluded,  with  great  labor,  and,  alas,  withoiit  effect.  At  the 
appointed  hour,  fewer  coaches  came  than  were  expected  ;  they  had  to 
accommodate  themselves  as  the  case  would  admit.  The  baron,  who 
followed  shortly  afterwards  on  horseback,  assigned  as  the  reason,  that 
all  was  in  motion  at  the  castle,  not  only  because  the  prince  Avas  to  ar- 
rive a  few  days  earlier  than  had  been  looked  for,  but  also  because  an 
unexpected  party  of  visitors  were  already  come  ;  the  place  he  said,  Avas 
in  great  confusion  ;  on  this  account,  porliaps  they  would  not  lodge  so 
comfortably  as  had  been  intended  ;  a  change  which  grieved  him  very 
much. 

Our  travelers  packed  themselves  into  the  carriages  the  best  way 
they  could  ;  and  the  weather  being  tolerable,  and  the  castle  but  a  few 
leagues  distant,  the  heartiest  of  the  troup  preferred  setting  out  on  foot 
to  waiting  the  return  of  tlie  coaches.  The  caravan  got  under  way  with 
great  jubilee  ;  for  the  first  time,  without  caring  how  the  landlord's 
bill  was  to  be  paid.  The  count's  mansion  rose  like  a  i)alace  of  the 
fairies  on  their  souls  ;  they  were  the  happiest  and  merriest  mortals  in 
the  world.  Each  throughout  the  journey,  in  his  own  peculiar  mode, 
kept  fastening  a  continued  chain  of  fortune,  honor  and  prosperity  to 
that  auspicious  day. 

A  heavy  rain,  which  fell  unexpectedly,  did  not  banish  these  delight- 
ful contemplations;  though,  as  it  incessantly " continued  with  more 
and  more  violence,  many  of  the  party  began  to  show  traces  of  uneasi- 
ness. The  night  came  on  ;  and  no  sight  could  be  more  Avelcome  than 
the  palace  of  the  count,  which  shone  upon  them  from  a  hill  at  some 
distance,  glancing  with  light  in  all  its  stories,  so  that  they  could 
reckon  every  window. 

On  approaching  nearer,  they  found  all  the  AA-indows  in  the  Avings 
illuminated  also.  Each  of  the  party  thought  AA'ithin  himself  AA'hat 
chamber  Avould  be  his  ;  and  most  of  them  prudently  determined  to  be 
satisfied  with  a  room  in  the  attic  story,  or  some  of  the  side  buildings. 

They  were  noAV  proceeding  through  the  A'illage,  past  the  inn.  Wil- 
helm  stopped  the  coach,  in  the  mind  to  alight  there  ;  but  the  land- 
lord protested  that  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  afford  the  least  accom- 


120  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

modation  :  his  lordship,  the  count,  he  said,  being  visited  by  some 
unexpected  guests,  had  immediately  engaged  the  whole  inn  ;  every 
chamber  in  the  house  had  been  marked  with  chalk  last  night,  speci- 
fying who  was  to  lodge  there.  Our  friend  was  accordingly  obliged, 
against  his  will,  to  travel  forward  to  the  castle,  with  the  rest  of  the 
company. 

In  one  of  the  side  buildings,  round  the  kitchen  fire,  they  noticed 
several  cooks  running  busily  about ;  a  sight  which  refreshed  them 
not  a  little.  Servants  came  jumping  hastily  with  lights  to  the  stair- 
case of  the  main  door  ;  and  the  hearts  of  the  worthy  pilgrims  over- 
flowed at  the  aspect  of  such  honors.  But  how  great  was  their 
surprise,  when  this  cordial  reception  changed  into  a  storm  of  curses. 
The  servants  scouted  the  coachmen  for  driving  in  hither  ;  they  must 
wheel  out  again,  it  was  bawled,  and  take  their  loading  round  to  the 
old  castle  ;  there  was  no  room  here  for  such  guests  !  To  this  up- 
friendly  and  unexpected  dismissal,  they  joined  all  manner  of  jeering, 
and  laughed  aloud  at  each  other  for  leaping  out  in  the  rain  on  so  false 
an  errand.  It  was  still  pouring  ;  no  star  was  visible  in  the  sky  ; 
while  our  company  were  dragged  along  a  rough  jolting  road,  between 
two  walls,  into  the  old  mansion,  which  stood  behind,  inhabited  by 
none  since  the  present  count's  father  had  built  the  new  residence  in 
front  of  it.  The  carriages  drew  up,  partly  in  the  court-yard,  partly 
in  a  long  arched  gateway  ;  and  the  postilions,  people  hired  from  the 
village,  unyoked  their  horses  and  rode  off. 

x\s  nobody  came  forward  to  receive  the  travelers,  they  alighted 
from  their  places,  they  shouted,  and  searched.  In  vain  !  All  con- 
tinued dark  and  still.  The  wind  swept  through  the  loft}-  gate  ;  the 
court  and  the  old  towers  were  lying  gray  and  dreary,  and  so  dim  that 
their  forms  could  scarcely  be  distinguished  in  the  gloom.  The  peo- 
ple were  all  shuddering  and  freezing  ;  the  women  were  becoming 
frightened ;  the  children  began  to  cry  ;  the  general  impatience  was 
increasing  every  minute  ;  so  quick  a  revolution  of  fortune,  for  which 
no  one  of  them  had  been  at  all  prepared,  entirely  destroyed  their 
equanimity. 

Expecting  every  minute  that  some  person  would  appear  and  unbolt 
the  doors  ;  mistaking  at  one  time  the  pattering  of  the  rain,  at  another 
the  rocking  of  the  wind,  for  the  much-desired  footste2)s  of  the  castle 
bailiff,  they  continued  downcast  and  inactive  ;  it  occurred  to  none  of 
them  to  go  into  the  new  mansion,  and  there  solicit  help  from  charita- 
ble souls.  They  could  not  understand  where  their  friend  the  baron 
was  lingering  ;  they  were  in  the  most  disconsolate  condition. 

At  last  some  people  actually  arrived  :  by  their  voices  they  were 
recognized  as  the  pedestrians  ^vho  had  fallen  behind  the  others  on  the 
journey.  They  intimated  that  the  baron  had  tumbled  with  his  horse, 
and  hurt  his  leg  severely  ;  and  that  on  calling  at  the  castle,  they  too 
had  been  roughly  directed  hither. 

The  whole  company  were  in  extreme  perplexity  ;  they  guessed  and 


BOOK  til.  GSAPTER  111.  ^  121 

speculated  as  to  what  sliould  now  be  done  ;  but  they  could  fix  on 
nothing.  At  length  they  noticed  from  afar  a  lantern  advancing,  and 
look  fresh  breath  at  sight  of  it  ;  but  their  hopes  of  quick  deliverance 
again  evaporated  when  the  object  approached,  and  came  to  be  dis- 
tinctly seen.  A  groom  was  lighting  the  well-known  stallmeister  of 
the  castle  towards  them  ;  this  gentleman,  on  coming  nearer,  very 
anxiou.sly  inquired  for  Mademoiselle  Philina.  No  sooner  had  she 
stepped  forth  from  the  crowd,  than  he  very  pressingh'  offered  to  con- 
duct her  to  the  new  mansion,  where  a  little  place  had  been  provided 
for  her  with  the  countess's  maids.  She  did  not  hesitate  long  about 
accepting  his  proposal  :  she  caught  his  arm,  and  recommending  her 
trunk  to  the  care  of  the  rest,  was  going  to  hasten  off  with  him 
diiettly  :  but  the  others  intercepted  them,  asking,  entreating,  con- 
juring the  stallmeister  ;  till  at  last,  to  get  away  with  his  fair  one,  he 
promised  everything,  assuring  them  that  in  a  little  while  the  castle 
should  be  opened,  and  they  lodged  in  the  most  comfortable  manner. 
In  a  few  moments,  they  saw  the  glimmer  of  his  lantern  vanish  ;  they 
long  looked  in  vain  for  another  gleam  of  light.  At  last,  after  much 
watching,  scolding  and  reviling,  it  actually  appeared,  and  revived 
them  with  a  toucli  of  hope  and  consolation. 

An  ancient  footman  oi)ened  the  door  of  the  old  edifice,  into  which 
they  rushed  with  violence.  Each  of  them  now  strove  to  have  liis 
trunk  unfastened,  and  brought  in  beside  him.  Most  of  this  luggage, 
like  the  persons  of  its  owners,  was  thoroughly  wetted.  Having  but 
a  single  light,  the  process  of  unpacking  went  on  very  slowly.  In 
the  dark  passages  they  pushed  again.st  each  other,  they  stumbled, 
they  fell.  They  begged  to  have  more  lights,  they  begged  to  have 
some  fuel.  The  monosyllabic  footman,  with  much  ado,  consented  to 
put  down  his  own  lantern  ;  then  went  his  way,  and  came  not  again. 

They  now  began  to  investigate  the  edifice.  The  doors  of  all  the 
rooms  were  opened  ;  large  stoves,  tapestry  hangings,  inlaid  floors, 
yet  bore  witness  to  its  former  pomp  ;  but  of  other  house-gear  there 
was  none  to  be  seen  ;  no  table,  chair,  or  mirror  ;  nothing  but  a  few 
monstrous  empty  bedsteads,  stript  of  every  ornament  and  every  neces- 
sary The  wet  trunks  and  knapsacks  were  adopted  as  seats  ;  a  part 
of  the  tired  wanderers  placed  themselves  upon  the  floor.  Wilhelm 
had  sal.  down  upon  some  steps  ;  Mignon  lay  upon  his  knees.  The 
child  was  restless  ;  and,  when  he  asked  what  ailed  her,  she  answered  : 
"  I  am  hungry."  He  himself  had  nothing  that  could  still  the  craving 
of  tiiie  child  ;  the  rest  of  the  party  had  consumed  their  whole  provis- 
ion ;  so  he  was  obliged  to  leave  the  little  traveler  without  refresh- 
ment. Through  the  whole  adventure  he  had  been  inactive,  silently 
immersed  in  thought.  He  was  very  sullen,  and  full  of  indignant 
regret  that  he  had  not  kept  by  his  first  determination,  and  remained 
at  the  inn,  though  he  shoiihl  have  slept  in  the  garret. 

The  rest  demeaned  themselves  in  various  ways.  Some  of  them  had 
got  a  heap  of  old  wood  collected  v/ithin  a  vast  gaping  chimney  in  the 


1 22  MEISTER  '8  A  PPRENTIGESHIP. 

hall ;  they  set  fire  to  the  pile  with  great  huzzahing.  Unhappily,  how- 
ever, their  hopes  of  warming  and  drying  themselves  by  means  of  it, 
were  mocked  in  the  most  frightful  manner.  The  chimne}',  it  ap- 
peared, was  there  for  ornament  alone,  and  was  walled- up  above  ;  so 
the  smoke  rushed  quickly  back,  and  at  once  filled  the  whole  chamber. 
The  dry  wood  rose  crackling  into  flames  ;  the  flame  was  also  driven 
back  ;  the  draught  sweeping  through  the  broken  windows  gave  it  a 
wavering  direction.  Terrified  lest  tlie  castle  should  catch  fire,  the 
unhappy  guests  had  to  tear  the  burning  sticks  asunder,  to  smother 
and  trample  them  under  their  feet  ;  the  smoke  increased  ;  their  case 
was  rendered  more  intolerable  than  before  ;  they  were  driven  to  the 
brink  of  desperation. 

Wilhelm  had  retreated  from  the  smoke  into  a  distant  chamber  ;  to 
which  Mignou  soon  followed  him,  leading  in  a  well-dressed  servant, 
with  a  high  clear  double-lighted  lantern  in  his  hand.  He  turned  to 
Wilhelm,  and  holding  out  to  him  some  fruits  and  confectionery  on  a 
beautiful  porcelain  plate :  "  The  young  lady  upstairs,"  said  he, 
"  sends  you  this,  with  the  request  that  you  would  join  her  party  ;  she 
bids  me  tell  you,"  added  the  lacquey,  with  a  sort  of  grin,  "that  she 
is  very  well  off  yonder,  and  wishes  to  divide  her  enjoyments  with 
her  friends." 

Wilhelm  had  not  at  all  expected  such  a  message  ;  for,  ever  since 
the  adventure  on  the  stone  bench,  he  had  treated  Pliilina  with  the 
most  decided  contempt  ;  he  was  still  so  resolute  to  have  no  more 
concern  with  her,  that  he  thought  of  sending  back  her  dainty  gifts 
untasted,  when  a  supplicating  look  of  Mignon's  induced  him  to  accept 
them.  He  returned  his  thanks  in  the  name  of  the  child.  The  invi- 
tation he  entirely  rejected.  He  desired  the  servant  to  exert  himself 
a  little  for  the  stranger  company,  and  made  inquiry-  for  the  baroa. 
The  latter,  he  was  told,  had  gone  to  bed  ;  but  had  already,  as  the 
lacquey  understood,  given  orders  to  some  other  person  to  take  charge 
of  these  unfortunate  and  ill-lodged  gentlemen. 

The  servant  went  away,  leaving  one  of  his  lights,  which  Wilhelm, 
in  the  absence  of  a  candlestick,  contrived  to  fix  upon  the  window 
casement  ;  and  now  at  least,  in  his  meditations,  he  could  see  the  four 
walls  of  his  chamber.  Nor  was  it  long  till  preparations  were  com- 
menced for  conducting  our  travelers  to  rest.  Candles  arrived  by 
degrees,  though  without  snuffers  ;  then  a  few  chairs  ;  an  hour  after- 
wards came  bed-clothes  ;  then  pillows,  all  well  steeped  in  rain.  It 
was  far  past  midnight  when  straw-beds  and  mattresses  were  produced, 
which,  if  sent  at  first,  would  have  been  extremely  welcome. 

In. the  interim  also,  somewhat  to  eat  and  drink  had  been  brought 
in  :  it  was  enjoyed  without  much  criticism,  though  it  looked  like  a 
most  disorderly  collection  of  remains,  and  offered  no  very  singular 
proof  of  the  e.steem  in  which  our  guests  were  held. 


BOOK  ILL  CHAPTER  LV.  123 


CHAPTER  IV. 


The  disorders  and  mischievous  tricks  of  some  frolicksome  com- 
panions still  farther  augmented  the  disquietudes  and  disti-esses  of  the 
night.  ;  these  gay  people  woke  each  other,  each  played  a  thousand 
giddy  pranks  to  plague  his  fellow.  The  next  morning  dawned  amid 
loud  complaints  against  their  friend  the  baron,  for  having  so  deceived 
them,  for  having  given  so  very  false  a  notion  of  the  order  and  comfort 
that  awaited  their  arrival.  However,  to  their  great  surprise  and  con- 
solation, at  an  early  hour,  the  count  himself,  attended  by  a  few  ser- 
vants, made  his  entrance,  and  inquired  about  their  circumstances. 
He  appeared  much  vexed  on  discovering  how  badly  they  had  fared  • 
and  the  baron,  who  came  limping  along,  supported  on  the  arm  of  a 
servant  bitterly  accused  the  steward  for  neglecting  his  commands  on 
this  occasion  :  showing  great  anxiety  to  have  that  person  punished 
for  his  disobedience. 

The  count  gave  immediate  orders  that  everything  should  be 
arranged,  in  his  presence,  to  the  utmost  possible  convenience  of  the 
guests.  While  this  was  going  on,  some  otficers  arrived,  Avho  forth- 
with scraped  acquaintance  with  the  actresses.  The  count  assembled 
all  the  company  before  him,  spoke  to  each  by  name,  introduced  a  few 
jokes  among  his  observations  ;  so  that  every  one  was  charmed  at  the 
gracious  condescension  of  his  lordship.  At  last  it  came  to  Wilhelm's 
turn  ;  he  appeared  with  Mignon  holding  by  his  hand.  Our  friend 
excused  himself,  in  the  best  terms  he  could,  for  the  freedom  he  had 
taken  ;  the  count,  on  the  other  hand,  spoke  as  if  the  visit  had  been 
looked  for. 

A  gentleman,  who  stood  beside  the  count,  and  who,  although  he 
wore  no  uniform,  appeared  to  be  an  officer,  conversed  with  Wilhelm  ; 
he  was  evidently  not  a  common  man.  His  large  keen  blue  eyes, 
looking  out  from  beneath  a  high  brow  ;  his  light-colored  hair,  thrown 
carelessly  back  ;  his  middle  stature  ;  everything  about  him  showed 
an  active,  firm  and  decisive  mode  of  being.  His  questions  were 
lively  ;  he  seemed  to  be  at  home  in  all  that  he  inquired  about. 

Wilhelm  a.sked  the  baron  Avhat  this  person  was  ;  but  found  that  he 
had  little  to  say  of  him.  "  He  held  the  rank  of  major,  was  the  spe- 
cial favorite  of  the  prince,  managed  his  most  secret  affairs,  was,  in 
short,  regarded  as  his  right  arm.  Nay,  there  was  reason  to  believe 
him  the  prince's  natural  son.  He  had  been  on  embassies  in  France, 
England,  Italy  ;  in  all  those  places  he  had  greatly  distinguished  him- 
self ;  by  which  means  he  was  grown  conceited,  imagining,  among 
other  pretensions,  that  he  thoroughly  understood  the  literature  of 
Germany,  and  allowing  himself  to  vent  all  kinds  of  .sorry  jests  upon 
it.     He,  the  baron,  was  in  the  habit  of  avoiding  all  intercourse  -svith 


134  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Mm  ;  and  Willielm  would  do  well  to  imitate  tliat  conduct,  for  it  some- 
how happened  that  no  one  could  be  near  him  without  being  punished 
for  it .  He  wa,s  called  Jarno  ;  though  nobody  knew  rightly  what  to 
make  of  such  a  name." 

Wilhelm  had  nothing  to  urge  against  all  this  :  he  had  felt  a  sort  of 
inclination  for  the  stranger,  though  he  noticed  in  him  something  cold 
and  repulsive. 

The  company  being  arranged  and  distributed  throughout  the  castle, 
Melina  issued  the  strictest  orders,  that  they  should  behave  themselves 
with  decency  ;  the  women  live  in  a  separate  quarter ;  and  each  direct 
his  whole  attention  to  the  study  of  dramatic  art,  and  of  the  characters 
he  had  to  play.  He  posted  up  written  ordinances,  consisting  of  many 
articles,  upon  all  the  doors.  He  settled  the  amcfui\t  of  fine,  which 
should  be  levied  upon  each  transgressor,  and  put  into  a  common  bos. 

This  edict  was  but  little  heeded.  Young  officers  went  out  and  in  ; 
they  jested  not  in  the  most  modest  fashion  with  the  actresses  ;  made 
game  of  the  actors;  and  annihilated  the  whole  system  of  police,  before 
it  had  the  smallest  time  to  take  root  in  the  community.  The  people 
ran  chasing  one  another  through  the  rooms,  they  changed  clothes, 
they  disguised  themselves.  Melina,  attempting  to  be  rigorous  with 
a  few  at  first,  was  exasperated  by  every  sort  of  insolence  ;  and  Avhen 
the  count  soon  after  sent  for  him  to  come  to  view  the  place  where 
his  theater  was  to  be  erected,  matters  grew  worse  and  worse.  The 
young  gentry  devised  a  thousand  broad  jokes  ;  by  the  help  of  some 
actors,  they  became  yet  coarser  ;  it  seemed  as  if  the  old  castle  had 
been  altogether  given  up  to  an  infuriate  host ;  and  the  racket  did  not 
end  till  dinner. 

Meanwhile  the  count  had  led  Melina  over  to  a  large  hall,  which, 
though  belonging  to  the  old  castle,  communicated  by  a  gallery  with 
the  new  one  :  it  seemed  very  well  adapted  for  being  changed  into  a 
little  theater.  Here  the  sagacious  lord  of  the  mansion  pointed  out  in 
person  how  he  wanted  everything  to  be. 

The  labor  now  commenced  in  the  greatest  haste  ;  the  stage  appara- 
tus was  erected  and  furbished  up  ;  what  decorations  they  had  brought 
along  with  them  and  could  employ,  were  set  in  order  ;  and  what  was 
wanting,  was  prepared  by  some  skillful  workmen  of  the  count's. 
Wilhelm  likewise  put  his  hand  to  the  business  ;  he  assisted  in  settling 
the  perspective,  in  laying  off  the  outlines  of  the  scenery  ;  he  was  very 
anxious  that  nothing  should  be  executed  clumsily.  The  count,  who 
frequently  came  in  to  inspect  their  progress,  was  highly  satisfied  ;  he 
showed  particularly  how  they  should  proceed  in  every  case,  display- 
ing an  uncommon  knowledge  of  all  the  arts  they  were  concerned  with. 

Next  began  the  business  of  rehearsing,  in  good  earnest ;  and  there 
would  have  been  enough  of  space  and  leisure  for  this  undertaking, 
had  the  actors  not  continually  been  interrupted  by  the  presence  of 
visitors.  Some  new  guests  v^^ere  daily  arriving,  and  each  insisted  on 
viewing  the  operations  of  the  company. 


BOOK  III  CHAPTER   V.  125 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  baron  had,  lor  several  days,  been  cheering  Wilhelm  with  the 
hope  of  being  formally  presented  to  the  countess.  "  I  have  told  this 
excellent  lady,"  said  he,  "  so  mucli  about  the  talent  and  fine  sentiment 
displayed  in  your  compositions,  that  she  feels  quite  impatient  to  see 
you,  and  hear  one  or  two  of  theiu  read.  Be  prepared,  therefoi'e,  to 
come  over  at  a  moment's  notice,  for  the  first  morning  she  is  at  leisure 
you  will  certainly  be  called  on."  He  then  pointed  out  to  him  the 
after-piece  it  would  be  proj^er  to  produce  on  that  occasion ;  adding, 
that  doubtless  it  would  recommend  him  to  no  usual  degree  of  favor. 
The  lady,  he  declared,  was  extremely  sorry  that  a  guest  like  him  had 
happened  to  arrive  at  a  time  of  such  confusion,  when  they  could  not 
entertain  him  in  a  style  more  suitable  to  his  merits  and  their  own 
wishes. 

In  consequence  of  this  information,  Wilhelm,  with  the  most  sedu- 
lous attention,  set  about  preparing  the  piece  which  was  to  usher  him 
into  the  great  world.  "  Hitherto,"  said  he,  "thou  hast  labored  in 
silence  for  thyself ;  applauded  only  by  a  small  circle  of  friends. 
Thou  hast  for  a  time  despaired  of  thy  abilities,  and  art  yet  full  of 
anxious  doubts  whether  even  thy  present  path  is  the  right  one,  and 
whether  thy  talent  for  the  stage  at  all  corresponds  with  thy  inclina- 
tion for  it.  In  the  hearing  of  such  practiced  judges,  in  the  closet 
where  no  illusion  can  take  place,  the  attempt  is  far  more  hazardous 
than  elsewhere  ;  and  yet  I  would  not  willingly  recoil  from  the  experi- 
ment ;  I  could  wish  to  add  this  pleasure  to  my  fonner  enjoyments,  and 
if  it  might  be,  to  givB  extension  and  stability  to  my  hopes  from  the 
future." 

He  accordingly  went  through  some  pieces  ;  read  them  with  the 
keenest  critical  eye  ;  made  corrections  here  and  there  ;  recited  them 
aloud,  that  he  might  be  perfect  in  his  tones  and  expression  ;  and 
finally  selected  the  work  which  he  was  best  acquainted  with,  and 
hoped  to  gain  most  honor  hy.  He  put  it  in  his  pocket,  one  morning, 
on  being  summoned  to  attend  the  countess. 

The  baron  had  assured  him  that  there  would  be  no  one  present,  but 
the  lady  herself  and  a  worthy  female  friend  of  hers.     On  entering  the 

chamber,  the  Baroness  von  C advanced  with  great  friendliness  to 

meet  him  ;  expressed  her  happiness  at  making  his  acquaintance,  and 
introduced  him  to  the  countess,  who  was  then  under  the  hands  of  her 
hairdresser.  The  countess  received  him  with  kind  words  and  looks, 
l)ut  it  vexed  him  to  see  Philina  kneeling  at  her  chair  and  playing  a 
thousand  fooleries.  "The  poor  child,"  said  the  baroness,  "  has  just 
been  singing  to  us.  Finish  the  song  you  were  in  the  midst  of  ;  we 
should  not  like  to  lose  it." 


126  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Wilhelm  listeued  to  her  quavering  with  great  patience,  being  anx- 
ious for  the  friseur's  departure  before  he  should  begin  to  read.  They 
offered  him  a  cup  of  chocolate,  the  baroness  herself  handing  him  the 
biscuit.  Yet,  in  spite  of  these  civilities,  he  relished  not  his  break- 
fast ;  he  was  longing  too  eagerly  to  lay  before  the  lovely  countess 
some  perfonnance  that  might  interest  and  gratify  her.  Philina,  too, 
stood  somewhat  in  his  way  ;  on  former  occasions,  while  listening  to 
him,  she  had  more  than  once  been  troublesome.  He  looked  at  the 
f riseur  with  a  painful  feeling,  hoping  every  moment  that  the  tower  of 
curls  would  be  complete. 

Meanwhile  the  count  came  in,  and  began  to  talk  of  the  fresh  visit- 
ors he  was  expecting,  of  the  day's  occupations  or  amusements,  and  of 
various  domestic  matters  that  were  started.  On  his  retiring,  some 
officers  sent  to  ask  permission  of  the  countess  to  pay  their  respects  to 
her,  as  they  had  to  leave  the  castle  before  dinner.  The  footman  hav- 
ing come  to  his  post  at  the  door,  she  permitted  him  to  usher  in  the 
gentlemen. 

The  baroness  amid  these  interruptions  gave  herself  some  pains  to 
entertain  our  friend,  and  showed  him  much  consideration  :  all  which 
he  accepted  with  becoming  reverence,  though  not  without  a  little  ab- 
sence of  mind.  He  often  felt  for  the  manuscript  in  his  pocket  ;  and 
hoped  for  his  deliverance  every  instant.  He  was  almost  losing  pa- 
tience, when  a  man-milliner  was  introduced,  and  immediately  began 
without  mercy  to  open  his  papers,  bags  and  bandboxes  ;  pressing  all 
his  various  wares  upon  the  ladies,  with  an  importunity  peculiar  to 
that  species  of  creature. 

The  company  increased.  The  baroness  cast  a  look  at  Wilhelm,  and 
then  whispered  with  the  countess  ;  he  noticed  this,  but  did  not  un- 
derstand the  purpose  of  it.  The  wholej  hovi'ever,  became  clear 
enough,  when,  after  an  hour  of  painful  and  fruitless  endurance  he 
went  away.  He  then  found  a  beautiful  jfocket-book,  of  English  man- 
ufacture in  his  pocket.  The  l)aroness  had  dexterously  put  it  there 
without  his  notice  ;  and  soon  afterwards  the  countess's  little  black  came 
out,  and  handed  him  an  elegantly  flowered  waistcoat,  withoujt  A'ery 
clearly  saying  whence  it  came. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


This  mingled  feeling  of  vexation  and  gratitude  spoiled  the  remain- 
der of  his  day  ;  till  towards  evening,  he  once  more  found  employment. 
Melina  informed  him  that  the  count  had  been  speaking  of  a  little  pre- 
lude, which  he  wished  to  have  produced,  in  honor  of  the  prince,  on 
the  day  of  his  highness's  arrival.  He  meant  to  have  the  great  qual- 
ities of  this   noble  hero  and  philanthropist   personified  in  the  piece. 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  VL  127 

These  virtues  were  to  advance  together,  to  recite  his  praises,  and 
finally  to  encircle  his  bust  with  garlands  of  flowers  and  laurels  ;  be- 
hind which  a  transparency  might  1)0  inserted,  representing  the  princely 
hat,  and  his  name  illuminated  on  it.  The  count,  Melina  said,  had 
ordered  him  to  take  charge  of  getting  ready  the  verses  and  other 
arrangements  ;  and  Wilhelui,  he  hoped,  to  whom  it  must  be  an  easy 
matter,  would  stand  by  him  on  this  occasion. 

"How!"  exclaimed  our  friend  in  a  splenetic  tone,  "have  we 
nothing  but  portraits,  illuminated  names  and  allegorical  figures,  to 
show  in  honor  of  a  prince,  who,  in  my  opinion,  merits  quite  a  dilTereut 
eulogy  ■?  How  can  it  flatter  any  reasonable  man  to  see  himself  set  up 
in  effigy,  and  his  name  glimmering  on  oiled  pajjer  !  I  am  very  much 
afraid  that  your  allegories,  particularly  in  the  present  state  of  the  ward- 
robe, will  furnish  occasion  for  many  ambiguities  and  jestings.  If  you 
mean,  however,  to  compose  the  piece,  or  make  it  be  composed,  I  can 
have  nothing  to  object  against  it  ;  only  I  desire  to  have  no  part  or  lot 
in  the  matter." 

Melina  excused  himself ;  alleging  this  to  be  only  a  casual  hint  of 
his  lordship  the  count,  who  for  the  rest  had  left  the  arrangement  of 
the  piece  entirely  in  their  own  hands.  "  With  all  my  heart,"  replied 
our  friend,  ' '  will  I  contribute  something  to  the  pleasure  of  this  noble 
family  ;  my  muse  has  never  had  so  pleasant  an  employment  as  to 
.sing,  though  in  broken  numbers,  to  the  praise  of  a  prince  who  merits 
so  much  veneration.  I  will  think  of  the  matter  ;  perhaps  I  may  be 
able  to  contrive  some  way  of  bringing  out  our  little  troup,  so  as  at 
least  to  produce  some  effect." 

From  this  moment,  Wilhelm  eagerly  reflected  on  his  undertaking. 
Before  going  to  sleep,  he  had  got  it  all  reduced  to  some  degree  of 
order  ;  early  next  morning  his  plan  was  ready,  the  scenes  laid  out  ;  a 
few  of  the  most  striking  passages  and  songs  were  even  versified  and 
written  down. 

As  soon  as  he  was  dressed,  our  friend  made  haste  to  wait  upon  the 
baron,  to  submit  the  plan  to  his  inspection,  and  take  his  advice  upon 
certain  points  connected  with  it.  The  baron  testified  his  approbation 
of  it ;  but  not  without  considerable  surprise.  For,  on  the  previous 
evening,  he  had  heard  his  lordship  talk  of  having  ordered  some  quite 
different  piece  to  be  prepared  and  versified. 

"To  me  it  seems  improbable,"  replied  our  friend,  "that  it  could 
be  his  lordship's  wish  to  have  the  piece  got  ready,  exactly  as  he  gave 
it  to  Melina.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  he  intended  merely  to  point  out 
to  us  from  a  distance  the  path  we  were  to  follow.  The  amateur  and 
critic  shows  the  artist  what  is  wanted  ;  and  then  leaves  to  him  the 
care  of  producing  it  by  his  own  means." 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  baron:  "his  lordship  understands  that 
the  piece  shall  be  composed  according  to  that  and  no  other  plan, 
which  he  has  himself  prescribed.  Yours  has  indeed  a  remote  simi- 
larity with  his  idea  ;  but,  if  we  mean  to  accomplish  our  purpose,  and 


128  MEISTHR'S  APPHENTICESniP. 

get  the  count  diverted  from  liis  first  tlioiiglit,  we  shall  need  to  em' 
ploy  the  ladies  in  the  matter.  The  baroness  especially  contrives  to 
execute  such  operations  in  the  most  masterly  manner  :  the  question 
is  now,  whether  your  plan  shall  so  please  her,  that  she  will  under- 
take the  business ;  in  that  case  it  will  certainly  succeed." 

"We  need  the  assistance  of  the  ladies,"  said  our  friend,  "  at  any 
rate  ;  for  neither  our  company  nor  our  wardrobe  would  suffice  without 
them.  I  have  counted  on  some  pretty  children,  they  are  running  up 
and  down  the  house,  and  belong  to  certain  of  the  servants." 

He  then  desired  the  baron  to  communicate  liis  plan  to  the  ladies. 
The  baron  soon  returned  with  intelligence  that  they  wished  to  speak 
with  Wilhelm  personally.  That  same  evening,  when  the  gentlemen 
sat  down  to  play,  which,  owing  to  the  arrival  of  a  certain  general,  was 
expected  to  be  deeper  and  keener  than  usual,  the  countess  and  her 
friend,  under  pretext  of  some  indisposition,  would  retire  to  their 
chamber  ;  where  Wilhelm,  being  introduced  by  a  secret  staircase, 
might  submit  his  project  without  interruption.  This  sort  of  mystery, 
the  baron  said,  would  give  the  adventure  a  peculiar  charm  ;  in  par- 
ticular the  baroness  was  rejoicing  like  a  child,  in  the  prospect  of  their 
rendezvous  ;  and  the  more  so,  because  it  was  to  be  accomplished 
secretly  and  against  the  inclination  of  the  count. 

Towards  evening,  at  the  appointed  time,  Wilhelm  was  sent  for, 
and  led  in  with  caution.  As  the  baroness  advanced  to  meet  him  in  a 
small  cabinet,  the  manner  of  their  interview  brought  former  happy 
scenes,  for  a  moment,  to  his  mind.  She  conducted  him  along  to  the 
countess's  chamber  ;  and  they  now  proceeded  earnestly  to  question 
and  investigate.  He  exhibited  his  plan  with  the  utmost  warmth  and 
vivacity  :  so  that  his  fair  audience  were  quite  decided  in  its  favor. 
Our  readers  also  will  permit  us  to  present  a  brief  sketcli  of  it  here. 

The  piece  was  to  open  with  a  dance  of  children  in  some  rural 
scene  ;  their  dance  representing  that  particular  game,  wherein  each 
has  to  wheel  round  and  gain  the  other's  place.  This  was  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  several  variations  of  their  play  ;  till  at  last,  in  performing 
a  dance  of  the  repeating  kind,  they  were  all  to  sing  a  merry  song. 
Here  the  old  harper  with  Mignon  should  enter,  and  by  the  curiosity 
which  they  excited,  gather  several  country  people  round  them;  the 
harper  would  sing  various  songs  in  praise  of  peace,  repose  and  joy  ; 
and  Mignon  would  then  dance  the  egg-dance. 

In  these  innocent  delights,  they  are  disturbed  by  the  sound  of 
martial  music  ;  and  the  party  are  surprised  by  a  troop  of  soldiers. 
The  men  stand  on  the  defensive,  and  are  overcome  ;  the  girls  fly,  and 
are  taken.  In  the  tumult  all  seems  going  to  destruction,  when  a  per- 
son (about  whose  form  and  qualities  the  poet  was  not  yet  detenuined) 
enters,  and  by  signifying  that  the  general  is  near,  restores  composure. 
Whereupon  the  hero's  character  is  painted  in  the  finest  colors  ;  secu- 
rity is  promised  in  the  midst  of  arms;  violencoand  lawless  disorder 
are  now  to  be  restrained.  A  universal  festival  is  held  in  honor  of 
the  noble-minded  captain. 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  VIL  129 

The  countess  aud  her  friend  expressed  great  satisfaction  wltli  the 
plan  ;  only  they  luaiutained  that  there  must  of  necessity  be  some 
thing  of  allegory  introduced,  to  make  it  palatable  to  his  lordship. 
The  baron  proposed  that  the  leader  of  the  soldiers  should  be  repre- 
sented as  the  genius  of  dissension  and  violence  ;  that  Miverva  should 
then  advance  to  bind  fetters  on  him,  to  give  notice  of  the  hero's  ap- 
proach, and  celebrate  his  praise.     The  baroness  undertook  the  task  ofi 
persuading  the  count,  that  this  plan  was  the  one  jjroposed  by  himself  i  , 
with  a  fesv  alterations  :  at  the  same  time  expressly  stipulating  that,  Y 
without  fail,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  piece,  the  bust,  the  illuminated 
name,  and  the  princely  hat,  should  be  exhibited  in  due  order  ;  since 
otherwise  her  attempt  was  vain. 

Wilhelm  had  already  figured  in  his  mind  how  delicately  and  how 
nobly  he  would  have  the  praises  of  the  hero  celebrated  in  the  mouth 
of  Minerva  ;  and  it  was  not  without  a  long  struggle  that  he  yielded 
in  this  point.  Yet  he  felt  himself  delightfully  constrained  to  yield. 
The  beautiful  eyes  of  the  countess,  and  her  lovely  demeanor,  would 
easily  have  moved  him  to  sin  against  his  conscience  as  a  poet  ;  to 
abandon  the  finest  and  most  interesting  invention,  the  keenly  wislied- 
for  unity  of  his  composition,  and  all  of  its  most  suitable  details.  His 
conscience  as  a  burgher  had  a  trial  no  less  hard  to  undergo,  when  the 
ladies,  in  distributing  the  characters,  pointedly  insisted  that  he  must 
undertake  one  himself. 

Laertes  had  received  for  his  allotment  the  part  of  that  violent  war- 
god  ;  Wilhelm  was  to  represent  the  leader  of  the  peasants,  who  had 
some  very  pretty  and  tender  verses  to  recite.  After  long  resistance 
he  was  forced  to  comply  ;  he  could  find  no  excuse,  when  the  baroness 
protested  that  their  stage  was  in  all  respects  to  be  regarded  as  a  private 
one,  and  that  she  herself  would  very  gladly  play  on  it,  if  they  could 
find  her  a  fit  occasion.  On  receiving  his  consent,  they  parted  with 
our  friend  on  tlie  kindest  terms.  The  baroness  assured  him  that  he 
was  an  incomparable  man  ;  she  accompanied  him  to  the  little  stairs 
and  wished  him  good-night  with  a  squeeze  of  the  haftd, 


CHAPTER  VH. 


The  interest  in  his  undertakings,  which  the  countess  and  her  friend 
expre.ssed  and  felt  so  warmly,  quickened  Wilhelm's  faculties  and  zeal  ; 
the  plan  of  his  piece,  which  the  process  of  describing  it  had  rendered 
more  distinct,  was  now  present  in  the  most  brilliant  vividness  before 
his  mind.  He  spent  the  greater  part  of  that  night,  and  the  whole  of 
next  morning,  in  the  sedulous  versification  of  the  dialogue  and  songs. 

He  had  proceeded  a  considerable  Avay,  when  a  message  came  requir- 
ing his  attendance  in  the  castle  ;  the  noble  company,  who  were  then 
Meisteii — 5 


130  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

at  breakfast,  wished  to  speak  with  him.  As  he  entered  tlie  parlor, 
the  baroness  advanced  to  meet  him  :  and,  under  pretext  of  wishing 
him  good-morning,  whispered  cunningly  :  "  Say  nothing  of  your 
piece,  but  what  you  shall  be  asked." 

"  I  hear,"  cried  the  count  to  him,  "  that  you  are  very  busy  working 
at  my  prelude,  which  I  mean  to  present  in  honor  of  the  prince.  I  con- 
sent that  you  introduce  a  Minerva  into  it  ;  and  we  are  just  thinking 
beforehand  how  the  goddess  shall  be  dressed,  that  we  may  not  blun- 
der in  costume.  For  this  purpose  I  am  causing  them  to  fetch  from 
the  library  all  the  books  that  contain  any  figures  of  her." 

At  the  same  instant  one  or  two  servants  entered  the  parlor,  with  a 
huge  basket  full  of  books  of  every  shape  and  appearance. 

Montfaucon,  the  collections  of  antique  statues,  gems  and  coins,  all 
sorts  of  mythological  writings,  were  tui-ned  up,  and  their  plates  com- 
pared. But  even  this  was  not  enough.  Tlie  count's  faithful  memory 
recalled  to  him  all  of  the  Minervas  to  be  found  in  frontispieces, 
vignettes,  or  anywhere  else  ;  and  book  after  book  was,  in  conse- 
sequence,  carried  from  the  library,  till  finally  .the  count  was  sitting  in 
a  chaos  of  volumes.  Unable  at  last  to  recollect  any  other  figure 
of  JNIinerva,  he  observed  with  a  smile:  "I  durst  bet,  that  now 
there  is  not  a  single  Minerva  in  all  the  library  ;  and  perhaps  it  is  the 
first  time  that  a  collection  of  books  has  been  so  totally  deprived  of 
the  presence  of  its  patron  goddess." 

The  whole  company  were  merry  at  this  thought ;  Jarno  particularly, 
who  had  all  along  been  spurring  on  the  count  to  call  for  more  and 
more  books,  laughed  quite  immoderately. 

"  Now,"  said  the  count,  tui-nlng  to  Wilhelm,  "  one  chief  point  is  : 
Which  goddess  do  you  mean  ?  Minerva  or  Pallas  ?  The  goddess 
of  war  or  of  the  arts  ?  " 

"Would  it  not  be  best,  your  excellency,"  said  Wilhelm,  "if  we 
were  not  clearly  to  express  ourselves  on  this  head ;  if,  since  the 
goddess  plays  a  double  part  in  the  ancient  mythology,  we  also  ex- 
hibited her  here  in  a  double  quality  ?  She  announces  a  warrior,  but 
only  to  calm  the  tumults  of  the  people  ;  she  celebrates  a  hero  by 
exalting  his  humanity  ;  she  conquers  violence,  and  restores  peace  and 
security." 

The  baroness,  afraid  lest  Wilhelm  might  betray  himself,  hastily 
pushed  forward  the  countess's  tailor,  to  give  his  opinion  how  such  an 
antique  robe  could  best  be  got  ready.  This  man,  being  frequently 
employed  in  making  naasquerade  dresses,  very  easily  contrived  the 
business  ;  and  as  Madam  Melina,  notwithstanding  her  advanced  state 
of  pregnancy,  had  undertaken  to  enact  the  celestial  virgin,  the  tailor 
was  directed  to  take  her  measure  :  and  the  countess,  though  with  some 
reluctance,  selected  from  the  wardrobe  the  clothes  he  was  to  cut  up 
for  that  purpose. 

The  baroness,  in  her  dexterous  way,  again  contrived  to  lead  Wilhelm 
aside,  and  let  him  know  that  she  had  been   providing  all  the  other 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  VII.  131 

necessaries.  Shortly  afterwards,  she  sent  him  the  musician,  who  had 
charge  of  the  count's  private  band  ;  and  this  professor  set  about  com- 
posing what  airs  were  wanted,  or  choosing  from  his  actual  stock  such 
tunes  as  appeared  suitable.  From  this  time  all  went  on  according  to 
the  wishes  of  our  friend  :  the  count  made  no  more  inquiries  about  the 
piece  ;  being  altogether  occupied  with  tl>e  transparent  decoration,  des- 
tined to  surprise  the  spectators  at  the  conclusion  of  the  play.  His  in- 
ventive genius,  aided  by  the  skill  of  his  confectioner,  produced  in  fact 
a  very  pretty  article.  In  the  course  of  his  travels,  the  count  had  wit- 
nessed the  most  splendid  exhibitions  of  this  sort  ;  he  had  also  brought 
home  with  him  a  number  of  copper-plates  and  drawings,  and  could 
sketch  such  things  with  considerable  taste. 

Meanwhile  Wilhelm  finished  the  play  ;  gave  every  one  his  part, 
and  began  the  study  of  his  own.  The  musician  also,  having  great  skill 
in  dancing,  prepared  the  ballet  ;  so  that  everything  proceeded  as  it 
ought. 

Yet  one  unexpected  obstacle  occurred,  which  threatened  to  occasion 
an  unpleasant  gap  in  the  performance.  He  had  promised  to  himself 
a  striking  effect  from  Mignon's  egg-dance  ;  and  was  much  surprised 
when  the  child,  with  her  customary  dryness  of  manner,  refused  to 
dance,  saying  she  was  now  his,  and  would  no  more  go  upon  the  stage. 
He  sought  to  move  her  by  every  sort  of  persuasion,  and  did  not  dis- 
continue his  attempt  till  she  began  Weeping  bitterly,  fell  at  his  feet, 
and  cried  out,  "Dearest  father  !  stay  thou  from  the  boards  thyself  !  " 
Little  heeding  this  caution,  he  studied  how  to  give  the  scene  some 
other  turn  that  might  be  equally  interesting. 

Philina,  whose  appointment  was  to  act  one  of  the  peasant  girls,  and 
in  the  concluding  dance  to  give  the  single- voice  part  of  the  song,  and 
lead  the  chorus,  felt  exceedingly  delighted  that  it  had  been  so  ordered. 
In  other  respects  too,  her  present  life  was  altogether  to  her  mind  ;  she 
had  her  separate  chamber;  was  constantly  beside  the  countess,  enter- 
taining her  with  fooleries,  and  daily  receiving  some  present  for  her 
pains.  Among  other  things,  a  dress  had  been  expressly  made  for  her 
wearing  in  this  prelude.  And  being  of  a  light  imitative  nature,  she 
quickly  marked  in  the  procedure  of  the  ladies  whatever  would  befit 
herself  :  she  had  of  late  grown  all  politeness  and  decorum.  The  at- 
tentions of  the  stallmeister  augmented  rather  than  diminished  ;  and, 
as  the  officers  also  paid  zealous  court  to  her,  living  in  so  genial  an 
element,  it  came  into  her  head  for  once  in  her  life  to  play  the  prude, 
and,  in  a  quiet  gradual  way,  to  take  upon  herself  a  certain  dignity  of 
manner  to  which  she  had  not  before  aspired.  Cool  and  sharp-sighted 
as  she  was,  eight  days  had  not  elapsed  till  she  knew  the  weak  side  of 
every  person  in  the  hou.se  ;  so  that,  had  she  possessed  the  power  of 
acting  from  any  constant  motive,  she  might  very  easily  have  made 
her  fortune.  But  on  this  occasion,  as  on  all  others,  she  employed  her 
advantages  merely  to  divert  herself,  to  procure  a  bright  to  -day,  and 
be  impertinent,  wherever  she  observed  that  impertinence  was  not 
attended  with  danger. 


133  MEISTEB'S  APPBENTIGE8EIP. 

The  parts  were  now  committed  to  memory  ;  a  reliearsal  of  tlie  piece 
was  ordered  ;  the  count  proposed  to  be  present  at  it  ;  and  his  lady 
began  to  feel  anxious  how  he  might  receive  it.  The  baroness  called 
Wilhelm  to  her  privately  :  the  nearer  the  hour  approached,  they  all 
disjilayed  the  more  perplexity  ;  for  the  truth  was,  that  of  the  count's 
original  idea  nothing  whatever  had  been  introduced.  Jarno,  who 
joined  them  while  consulting  together,  was  admitted  to  the  secret. 
He  felt  amused  at  the  contrivance,  and  was  heartily  disposed  to  offer 
the  ladies  his  good  services  in  carrying  it  through.  "  It  will  go  hard," 
said  he,  "if  you  cannot  extricate  yourselves  without  help  from  this 
afEair  ;  but,  at  all  events,  I  will  wait  as  a  body  of  reserve."  The 
baroness  then  told  them  how  she  had  on  various  occasions  recited  the 
whole  piece  to  the  count,  but  only  in  fragments  and  without  order  ; 
that  consequently  he  was  prepared  for  each  individual  passage,  yet 
certainly  possessed  with  the  idea  that  the  whole  would  coincide  with 
his  original  conception.  "I  will  sit  by  him,"  said  she,  "to-night 
at  the  rehearsal,  and  study  to  divert  his  attention.  '  The  confectioner 
I  have  engaged  already  to  make  the  decoration  as  beautiful  as  possible, 
but  as  yet  he  has  not  quite  completed  it. 

"I  know  of  a  court,"  said  Jarno,  "where  I  wish  we  had  a  few 
such  active  and  prudent  friends  as  you.  If  your  skill  to-night  will 
not  suffice,  give  me  a  signal  ;  I  will  take  out  the  count,  and  not  let 
him  in  again  till  Minerva  enters,  and  you  have  speedy  aid  to  expect 
from  the  illumination.  For  a  day  or  two,  I  have  had  something  to 
report  to  hira  about  his  cousin,  which  for  various  reasons  I  have 
hitherto  postponed.  It  will  give  his  thoughts  another  turn,  and  that 
none  of  the  pleasantest." 

Business  hindered  the  count  from  being  present  when  the  play 
began  ;  the  baroness  amused  him  after  his  arrival  ;  Jarno's  help  was 
not  required.  For,  as  the  count  had  abundance  of  employment  in 
pointing  out  improvements,  rectifying  and  arranging  the  detached 
parts,  he  entirely  forgot  the  purport  of  the  whole  ;  and  as  at  last 
Madam  Melina  advanced  and  spoke  according  to  his  heart,  and  the 
transparency  did  well,  he  seemed  completely  satisfied.  It  was  not  till 
the  whole  was  finished,  and  his  guests  were  sitting  down  to  cards, 
that  the  difference  appeared  to  strike  him,  and  he  began  to  think 
whether  after  all  this  piece  was  actually  of  his  invention.  At  a  signal 
from  the  baroness,  Jarno  then  came  forward  into  action  ;  the  evening 
passed  away  ;  the  intelligence  of  the  prince's  approach  was  confirmed  ; 
the  people  rode  out  more  than  once  to  see  his  vanguard  encamping  in 
the  neighborhood  ;  the  house  was  full  of  noise  and  tumult ;  and  our 
actors,  not  always  served  in  the  handsomest  manner  by  unwilling 
servants,  had  to  pass  their  time  in  practicings  and  expectations,  at 
their  quarters  in  the  old  mansion,  without  any  one  particularly  taking 
thought  about  them. 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  VIZI.  133 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


At  lengtli  the  prince  arrived,  with  all  his  generals,  staff-oflScers 
and  suite  accompanying  him.  Tliese,  and  the  multitude  of  people 
coming  to  visit  or  do  business  with  him,  made  the  castle  like  a  bee- 
hive on  the  point  of  swarming.  All  presyed  forward  to  behold  a  man 
no  less  distinguished  by  his  rank  than  by  his  great  qualities  ;  and  all 
admired  his  urbanity  and  condescension  ;  all  were  astonished  at  find- 
ing the  hero  and  the  leader  of  armies  also  the  most  accomplished  and 
attractive  courtier. 

By  the  count's  orders,  the  inmates  of  tlie  castle  were  required  to  be 
all  at  their  posts  when  the  prince  arrived  ;  not  a  player  was  allowed  to 
show  himself,  that  his  highness  might  have  no  anticipation  of  the  spec- 
tacle prepared  to  welcome  him.  Accordingly,  when  at  evening  he  was 
led  into  the  lofty  hall,  glowing  with  light,  and  adorned  with  tapes- 
tries of  the  previous  century,  he  seemed  not  at  all  prepared  to  expect 
a  play,  and  still  less  a  prelude  in  honor  of  himself.  Everything  went 
off  as  it  should  have  done  :  at  the  conclusion  of  the  show,  the  whole 
troup  were  called  and  presented  individually  to  the  prince,  who  con- 
trived with  the  most  pleasing  and  friendly  air  to  put  some  question, 
or  make  some  remark,  to  every  one  of  them.  Wilhelm,  as  author  of 
the  piece,  was  particularly  noticed,  and  had  his  tribute  of  applause 
liberally  paid  him. 

The  prelude  being  fairly  over,  no  one  asked  another  word  about  it ; 
in  a  few  days,  it  was  as  if  it  never  had  existed,  except  that  occasionally 
Jarno  spoke  of  it  to  Wilhelm,  judiciously  jn-aised  it,  adding,  how- 
ever :  "  It  is  a  pity  you  should  play  with  hollow  nuts  for  a  stake  of 
hollow  nuts."  Tliis  expression  stuck  in  Wilhelm's  mind  for  several 
days  ;  he  knew  not  how  to  explain  it,  or  what  to  infer  from  it. 

Meanwhile  the  comjiany  kept  acting  every  night,  as  well  as  their 
capacities  permitted  ;  each  doing  his  utmost  to  attract  the  attention  of 
spectators.  Undeserved  applauses  cheered  them  on  :  in  their  old 
castle  they  fully  believed,  that  the  great  assemblage  was  crowding 
thither  solely  on  their  account ;  that  the  multitude  of  strangers  was 
allured  by  their  exhibitions  ;  that  they  were  the  center  round  which, 
and  by  means  of  which,  the  whole  was  moving  and  revolving. 

Wilhelm  alone,  discovered,  to  his  sorrow,  that  directly  the  reverse, 
was  true.  For  although  the  prince  had  waited  out  the  first  exhibi-| 
tions,  sitting  on  his  chair,  with  the  greatest  conscientiousness,  yet  bW 
degrees  he  grew  remiss  in  his  attendance,  and  seized  every  plausiblej 
occasion  of  withdrawing.  And  those  very  people  whom  Wilhelm,  in 
conversation,  had  found  to  be  the  best  informed  and  most  sensible, 
with  Jarno  at  their  head,  were  wont  to  spend  but  a  few  transitory 
moments  in  the  hall  of  the  theater  ;  sitting  for  the  rest  of  their  tim^ 


i 


134  MEI8TER' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

in  tlie  ante-chamber,  gaming,  or  seeming  to  employ  themselves  in 
business. 

Amid  all  his  persevering  efforts,  to  want  the  wished  and  hoped-for 
approbation  grieved  Wilhelm  very  deeply.  In  the  choice  of  plays, 
in  transcribing  the  parts,  in  numerous  rehearsals,  and  whatever 
farther  could  be  done,  he  zealously  co-operated  with  Melina,  who, 
being  in  secret  conscious  of  his  own  insufficiency,  at  length  acknowl- 
edged and  pursued  these  counsels.  His  own  parts  Wilhelm  diligently 
studied  ;  and  executed  with  vivacity  and  feeling,  and  with  all  the 
propriety  which  the  little  training  he  had  yet  received  would  allow. 

At  the  same  time,  the  unwearied  interest  which  the  baron  took  in 
their  performances,  obliterated  every  doubt  from  the  minds  of  the 
rest  of  the  company  :  he  assured  them  that  their  exhibitions  were 
producing  the  deepest  effect,  especially  while  one  of  his  own  pieces 
had  been  representing  ;  only  he  was  grieved  to  say,  the  prince  showed 
an  exclusive  inclination  for  the  French  theater  ;  while  a  part  of  his 
people,  among  whom  Jarno  was  especially  distinguished,  gave  a 
passionate  preference  to  the  monstrous  productions  of  the  English 
stage. 

If  in  this  way  the  art  of  our  players  was  not  adequately  noticed  and 
admired,  their  persons,  on  the  other  hand,  grew  not  entirely  indiffer- 
ent to  all  the  gentlemen  and  all  the  ladies  of  the  audience.  We  ob- 
served above,  that  from  the  very  first  our  actresses  had  drawn  upon 
them  the  attention  of  the  young  officers  ;  in  the  sequel  they  were 
luckier,  and  made  more  important  conquests.  But  omitting  these, 
we  shall  merely  observe,  that  Wilhelm  every  day  appeared  more  in- 
teresting to  the  countess,  Avhile  in  him  too  a  silent  inclination  towards 
her  was  beginning  to  take  root.  Whenever  he  was  on  the  stage,  she 
could  not  turn  her  eyes  from  him  ;  and  ere  long  he  seemed  to  play 
and  to  recite  with  his  face  towards  her  alone.  To  look  upon  each 
other  was  to  them  the  sweetest  satisfaction  ;  to  which  their  harmless 
souls  yielded  without  reserve,  without  cherishing  a  bolder  wish,  or 
thinking  about  any  consequence. 

As  two  hostile  outposts  will  sometimes  peacefully  and  pleasantly 
converse  together,  across  the  river  v/hich  divides  them,  not  thinking 
of  the  war  in  which  both  their  countries  are  engaged,  so  did  the 
countess  exchange  looks  full  of  meaning  with  our  friend,  across 
the  vast  chasm  of  birth  and  rank,  both  believing  for  themselves  that 
they  might  safely  cherish  their  several  emotions. 

The  baroness,  in  the  meantime,  had  selected  Laertes,  who,  being  a 
spirited  and  lively  young  man,  pleased  her  very  much  ;  and  who, 
woman-hater  as  he  was,  felt  unwilling  to  refuse  a  passing  adventure. 
He  would  actually  on  this  occasion  have  been  fettered,  against  his 
will,  by  the  courteous  and  attractive  nature  of  the  baroness,  had  not 
the  baron  done  him  accidentally  a  piece  of  good,  or  if  you  will,  of  bad 
service,  by  instructing  him  a  little  in  the  habits  and  temper  of  this 
lady. 


BOOK  III  CHAPTER  VIll.  135 

Laertes  happening  once  to  celebrate  lier  praises,  and  give  her  the 
preference  to  every  other  of  her  sex,  the  baron  with  a  grin  replied  : 
"  I  see  how  matters  stand  ;  our  fair  friend  has  got  a  fresh  inmate  for 
her  stalls."  This  luckless  comparison,  which  pointed  too  clearly  to 
the  dangerous  caresses  of  a  Circe,  grieved  poor  Laertes  to  the  heart ; 
he  could  not  listen  to  the  baron  without  spite  and  anger,  as  the  latter 
continued  without  mercy  : 

"  Every  stranger  thinks  he  is  the  first,  whom  this  delightful  man- 
ner of  proceeding  has  concerned  ;  but  he  is  grievously  mistaken  ;  for 
we  have  all,  at  one  time  or  another,  been  trotted  round  this  course. 
Man,  youth,  or  boy,  be  who  he  like,  each  must  devote  himself  to  her 
service  for  a  season,  must  hang  about  her,  and  toil  and  long  to  gain 
her  favor." 

To  the  happy  man,  just  entering  the  garden  of  an  enchantress,  and  ~] 
welcomed  by  all  the  pleasures  of  an  artificial  spring,   nothing  can     ' 
form  a  more  unpleasant  surprise,  than  if,  while  his  ear  is  watching 
and  drinking  in  the  music  of   the  nightingales,  some   transformed 
predecessor  on  a  sudden  grunts  at  his  feet.  ,j 

After  this  discovery,  Laertes  felt  heartily  ashamed,  that  vanity 
should  have  again  misled  him  to  think  well,  even  in  the  smallest  de- 
gree, of  any  woman  whatsoever.  He  now  entirely  forsook  the 
baroness  ;  kept  by  the  stallmeister,  with  wliom  he  diligently  fenced 
and  hunted  ;  conducting  himself  at  rehearsals  and  representations  as 
if  these  were  but  secondary  matters. 

The  count  and  his  lady  would  often  in  the  mornings  send  for  some 
of  the  company  to  attend  them  ;  and  all  had  continual  cause  to  envy 
the  undeserved  good  fortune  of  Philina.  The  count  kept  his  favor- 
ite, the  pedant,  frequently  for  hours  together,  at  his  toilet.  This 
genius  had  been  dressed-out  by  degrees  ;  he  was  now  equipped  and 
furnished  even  to  watcli  and  snuff-box. 

Many  times,  too,  particularly  after  dinner,  the  whole  company  were 
called  out  before  the  noble  guests  ;  an  honor  whicli  the  artists  regarded 
as  the  most  flattermg  in  the  world  ;  not  observing,  that  on  these  very 
occasions  the  servants  and  huntsmen  were  ordered  to  bring  in  a  multi- 
tude of  hounds,  and  to  lead  strings  of  horses  about  the  court  of  the 
castle. 

Wilhelm  had  been  counseled  to  praise  Racine,  the  prince's  favorite, 
and  thereby  to  attract  some  portion  of  liis  highness's  favor  to  himself. 
On  one  of  these  afternoons,  being  summoned  with  the  rest,  he  found 
an  opportunity  to  introduce  this  topic.  The  prince  asked  him  if  he 
diligently  read  the  great  French  dramatic  writers  ;  to  Avhich  Wilhelm 
answered  with  a  very  eager  "  Yes."  He  did  not  observe  that  his  high- 
ness, without  waiting  for  the  answer,  was  already  on  the  point  of  i 
turning  round  to  some  one  else  :  he  fixed  upon  him,  on  the  contrary, ; 
almost  stepping  in  his  way  ;  and  proceeded  to  declare,  that  he  valued 
the  French  theater  very  highly,  and  read  the  works  of  the  great  mas- 
ters with  delight ;  particularly  he  had  learned  with  true  joy  that  his 


186  MEISTER'8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

liigliness  did  complete  justice  to  the  great  talents  of  Racine.  "I 
can  easily  conceive,"  continued  lie,  "how  people  of  high  breeding 
and  exalted  rank  must  value  a  poet,  who  has  painted  so  excellently 
and  so  truly  the  circumstances  of  their  lofty  station.  Corneille,  if  I 
may  say  so,  has  delineated  great  men  ;  Eacine  men  of  eminent  rank. 
In  reading  his  plays,  I  can  always  figure  to  myself  the  poet  as  living 
at  a  splendid  court,  with  a  great  king  before  his  eyes,  in  constant 
intercourse  with  the  most  distinguished  persons,  and  penetrating  into 
the  secrets  of  human  nature,  as  it  works  concealed  behind  the  gor- 
geous tapestry  of  palaces.  When  I  study  his  Britannicus,  his  Berenice, 
it  seems  as  if  I  were  transported  in  person  to  the  court,  were  initiated 
into  the  great  and  the  little  in  the  habitations  of  these  earthly  gods  ; 
through  the  fine  and  delicate  organs  of  my  author,  I  see  kings  whom 
a  nation  adores,  courtiers  whom  thousands  envy,  in  their  natural 
forms,  with  their  failings  and  their  pains.  The  anecdote  of  Racine's 
dying  of  a  broken  heart,  because  Louis  Fourteenth  would  no  longer 
attend  to  him,  and  had  shown  him  his  dissatisfaction,  is  to  me  the 
key  to  all  his  works.  It  was  impossible  that  a  poet  of  his  talents, 
whose  life  and  death  depended  on  the  looks  of  a  king,  should  not 
write  such  works  as  a  king  and  a  prince  might  applaud. " 

Jarno  had  stepped  near,  and  was  listening  with  astonishment.  The 
prince,  who  had  made  no  answer,  and  had  only  shown  his  approba- 
tion by  an  assenting  look,  now  turned  aside  ;  though  Wilhelm,  who 
did  not  know  that  it  was  contrary  to  etiquette  to  continue  a  discussion 
under  such  circumstances  and  exhaust  a  subject,  would  gladly  have 
spoken  more,  and  convinced  the  prince  that  he  had  not  read  his  favor- 
ite poet  without  sensibility  and  profit. 

"Have  you  never,"  said  Jarno,  taking  him  aside,  "read  one  of 
Shakespeare's  plays  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Wilhelm  :  "  since  the  time  when  they  became  more 
known  in  Germany,  I  have  myself  grown  unacquainted  with  the 
theater  :  and  I  know  not  whether  1  should  now  rejoice  that  an  old 
taste,  and  occupation  of  my  youth,  has  been  by  chance  renewed.  In 
the  meantime,  all  that  I  have  heard  of  these  ])hiys  lias  excited  little 
wish  to  become  acquainted  with  such  extraordinary  monsters,  which 
appear  to  set  probability  and  dignity  alike  at  defiance." 

"  I  would  advise  you,"  said  the  other,  "to  make  a  trial,  notwith- 
standing :  it  can  do  one  no  harm  to  look  at  what  is  extraordinary  with 
one's  own  eyes.  I  Avill  lend  you  a  volume  or  two  ;  and  you  cannot 
better  spend  your  time,  than  by  casting  everything  aside,  and  retiring 
to  the  solitude  of  your  old  habitation,  to  look  into  the  magic-lantern 
of  tliat  unknown  world.  It  is  sinful  of  you  to  waste  your  hours  in 
dressing  out  tliese  a]ies  to  look  more  human,  and  teaciiing  dogs  to 
dance.  One  thing  only  I  recpiire  :  you  must  not  cavil  at  tlu' form  ; 
the  rest  I  leave  to  your  own  good  sense  and  feeling." 

The  liorses  were  standing  at  the  door,  and  Jarno  mounted  with  some 
other  cavaliers  to  go  and  hunt.      Wilhelm  looked  afti'r  him  with  .sad- 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  IX.  137 

ness.  He  would  fain  have  spoken  mucli  with  this  man,  who,  though 
in  a  harsh,  unfriendly  way,  gave  him  new  ideas — ideas  that  he  had 
need  of. 

Oftentimes  a  man  when  approaching  some  development  of  his 
powers,  capacities  and  conceptions,  gets  into  a  perplexity,  from  which 
a  prudent  friend  might  easily  deliver  him.  He  resembles  a  traveler, 
who,  at  but  a  short  distance  from  the  inn  he  is  to  rest  at,  falls  into 
the  water  ;  were  any  one  to  catch  him  then,  and  pull  him  to  the 
bank,  with  one  good  wetting  it  were  over  ;  whereas,  though  he  strug- 
gles out  himself,  it  is  often  at  the  side  where  he  tumbled  in,  and  he 
has  to  make  a  wide  and  weary  circuit  before  reaching  his  appointed 
object. 

Wilhelm  now  began  to  have  an  inkling  that  things  went  forward  in 
the  woi'ld  differently  from  what  he  had  supposed.     He  now  viewed 
\  close  at  hand  the  solemn  and  imposing  life  of  the  great  and  distin-, 
I  guished  ;  and  wondered  at  the  easy  dignity  which  they  contrived  toi 
give  it.     An  army  on  its  march,  a  princely  hero  at  the  head  of  it,  such 
la  multitude  of  co-operating  warriors,  such  a  multitude  of  crowding 
worshipei's,  exalted  his  imagination.     In  this  mood  he  received  the 
promised  books  ;  and  ere  long,  as  may  be  easily  supposed,  the  stream 
of  that  mighty  genius  laid  hold  of  him,  and  led  him  down  to  a  shore- 
less ocean,  where  he  soon  completely  forgot  and  lost  himself. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


The  connection  between  the  baron  and  the  actors  had  suffered  vari- 
ous changes  since  the  arrival  of  the  latter.  At  the  commencement  it 
had  been  productive  of  great  satisfaction  to  both  parties.  As  the  baron 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life  now  saw  one  of  those  pieces,  with  which 
he  had  already  graced  a  private  theater,  put  into  the  hands  of  real 
actors,  and  in  the  fair  way  for  a  decent  exhibition,  he  showed  the 
benignest  humor  in  the  world.  He  was  liberal  in  gifts  ;  he  bought 
little  presents  for  the  actresses  from  every  millinery  hawker,  and  con- 
trived to  send  over  many  an  odd  bottle  of  champagne  to  the  actors. 
In  return  for  all  this  our  company  took  every  sort  of  trouble  with  his 
play ;  and  Wilhelm  spared  no  diligence  in  learning,  with  extreme 
correctness,  the  sublime  speeches  of  that  very  eminent  hero,  whose 
part  had  fallen  to  his  share. 

But,  in  spite  of  all  these  kind  reciprocities,  some  clouds  by  degrees 
arose  between  the  players  and  their  patron.     The  baron's  preference    ) 
for  certain  actors  became  daily  more  observable  :  this,  of  necessity,    .' 
chagrined  the  rest.     He  exalted  his  favorites  quite  exclusively  ;  and  j 
thus,  of  course,  he  introduced  disunion  and  jealousy  among  the  com- 


138  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

pany.  Melina,  without  skill  to  help  liimself  in  dubious  junctures, 
felt  his  situation  very  vexing.  The  persons  eulogized  accepted  of 
tlieir  praise,  without  being  singularly  thankful  for  it  :  while  the  neg- 
lected gentlemen  showed  traces  of  their  spleen  by  a  thousand  methods, 
and  constantly  found  means  to  make  it  very  disagreeable  for  their 
once  much-honored  patron  to  appear  among  them.  Their  spite 
received  no  little  nourishment  from  a  certain  poem,  by  an  unknown 
author,  which  made  a  great  sensation  in  the  castle.  Previously  to 
this,  the  baron's  intercourse  with  the  company  had  given  rise  to  many 
little  strokes  of  merriment ;  several  stories  had  been  raised  about 
him  ;  certain  little  incidents,  adorned  with  suitable  additions,  and 
presented  in  the  proper  light,  had  been  talked  of,  and  made  the  sub- 
ject of  much  bantering  and  laughter.  At  last  it  began  to  be  said  that 
a  certain  rivalry  of  trade  was  arising  between  him  and  some  of  the 
actors,  who  also  looked  upon  themselves  as  writers.  The  poem  we 
spoke  of  was  founded  upon  this  report  ;  it  ran  as  follows  : 

I,  poor  devil.  Lord  Baron, 
Must  envy  you  your  crest  of  arms. 
The  coach  you  ride  in,  coat  you've  on, 
Tour  copses,  ponds,  and  rack-rent  farms, 
Your  father's  polish'd  ashlar  house, 
And  all  his  hounds  and  hares  and  grouse. 

Me,  poor  devil.  Lord  Baron, 
You  envy  my  small  shred  of  wit  ; 
Because  it  seems,  as  things  have  gone. 
Old  Nature  had  a  hand  in  it ; 
She  made  me  light  of  heart  and  gay. 
With  long-necked  purse,  not  brain  of  clay 

Look  you  now,  dear  Lord  Baron, 
What  if  we  both  should  cease  to  fret, 
You  being  his  lordship's  eldest  sou. 
And  I  being  mother  Nature's  brat  ? 
We  live  in  peace,  all  envy  chase, 
And  heed  not  which  o'  th'  two  Burpasses ; 
I  in  the  herald's  books  no  place, 
You  having  none  about  Parnassus. 

Upon  this  poem,  which,  various  persons  were  possessed  of,  in  copies 
scarcely  legible,  opinions  were  exceedingly  divided.  But  who  the 
author  was,  no  one  could  guess  ;  and  as  some  began  to  draw  a  spite- 
ful mirth  from  it,  our  friend  expressed  himself  against  it  very  keenly. 

"  We  Germans,"  he  exclaimed,  "deserve  to  have  our  muses  still 
continue  in  the  low  contempt  wherein  they  have  languished  so  long  ; 
since  we  carmot  value  men  of  rank  who  take  a  share  in  our  literature, 
no  matter  how.  Birth,  rank  and  fortune  are  no  wise  incompatible 
with  genius  and  taste  ;  as  foreign  nations,  reckoning  among  their 
best  minds  a  great  number  of  noblemen,  can  fully  testify.  Hitherto 
indeed  it  has  ))een  rare  in  (ilermany  for  men  of  high  station  to  devote 
tlieniselves  to  science  ;  hitherto  few  famous  names  have  become  more 
famous  by  their  love  of  art  jmd  learning  ;  while  many,  on  the  other 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTEU  IX.  I3d 

kand,  have  mounted  out  of  darkness  to  distinction,  and  risen  like  un- 
known stars  on  the  horizon.  Yet  such  will  not  always  be  the  case  ; 
and  I  greatly  err,  if  the  first  classes  of  the  nation  are  not  even  now 
in  the  way  of  also  employing  their  advantages  to  earn  the  fairest 
laurels  of  the  muses,  at  no  distant  date.  Nothing,  therefore,  grieves 
me  more  than  to  see  the  burgher  jeering  at  the  noble  who  can  value 
literature  ;  nay,  even  men  of  rank  themselves,  with  inconsiderate  ca- 
price, maliciously  scaring  oif  their  equal  from  a  path  where  honor  and 
contentment  wait  on  all." 

Apparently  this  latter  observation  pointed  at  the  count,  of  whom 
Wilhelm  had  heard  that  he  liked  the  poem  very  much.  In  truth, 
this  nobleman,  accustomed  to  rally  the  baron  in  his  own  peculiar  way, 
was  extremely  glad  of  such  an  opportunity  to  plague  his  kinsman 
more  effectually.  As  to  who  the  writer  of  the  squib  might  be,  each 
formed  his  own  hypothesis  ;  and  the  count,  never  willing  that  another 
should  surpass  him  in  acuteness,  fell  upon  a  thought,  which,  in  a  short 
time,  he  would  have  sworn  to  the  truth  of.  The  verses  could  be 
written,  he  believed,  by  no  one  but  his  pedant,  who  was  a  very  shrewd 
knave,  and  in  whom,  for  a  long  while,  he  had  noticed  some  touches 
of  poetic  genius.  By  way  of  proper  treat,  he  therefore  caused  the 
pedant  one  morning  to  be  sent  for,  and  made  him  read  the  poem,  in 
his  own  manner,  in  presence  of  the  countess,  the  baroness,  and  Jarno  ; 
a  service  he  was  paid  for  by  applauses,  praises  and  a  present  ;  and  on 
the  count's  inquiring  if  he  had  not  still  some  other  poems  of  an  earlier 
time,  he  cunningly  tried  to  evade  the  question.  Thus  did  the  pedant 
get  invested  with  the  reputation  of  a  poet  and  a  wit  ;  and  in  the  eyes 
of  the  baron's  friends,  of  a  pasquinader  and  a  bad-hearted  man. 
From  that  period,  play  as  he  might,  the  count  applauded  him  with 
greater  zeal  than  ever ;  so  that  the  poor  wight  grew  at  last  inflated 
till  he  nearly  lost  his  senses,  and  began  to  meditate  having  a  chani- 
ber  in  the  castle  like  Philina. 

Had  this  project  been  fulfilled  at  once,  a  great  mishap  might  have 
been  spared  him.  As  he  was  returning  late  one  evening  from  the 
castle,  groping  about  in  the  dark  narrow  way,  he  was  suddenly  laid 
hold  of,  and  kept  on  the  spot  by  some  persons,  while  some  others 
rained  a  shower  of  blows  upon  him,  and  battered  him  so  stoutly,  that 
in  a  few  seconds  he  was  lying  almost  dead  upon  the  place,  and  could 
not  without  ditficulty  crawl  in  to  his  companions.  These,  indignant 
as  they  seemed  to  be  at  such  an  outrage,  felt  their  secret  joy  in  the 
adventure  ;  they  could  hardly  keep  from  laughing  at  seeing  him  so 
thoroughly  curried,  and  his  new  brown  coat  bedusted  through  and 
through,  and  bedaubed  with  white,  as  if  he  had  had  to  do  with  millers. 

The  count,  who  soon  got  notice  of  the  business,  broke  into  a  bound- 
less rage.  He  treated  this  act  as  the  most  heinous  crime  ;  called  it 
an  infringement  of  the  burgfried,  or  peace  of  the  castle,  and  caused 
his  judge  to  make  the  strictest  inquisition  touching  it.  The  whited 
coat,  it  was  imagined,  would  afford  a  leading  proof.     Every  creature, 


140  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

that  possibly  could  liave  the  smallest  trade  with  Hour  or  powder  in 
the  castle,  was  submitted  to  investigation  ;  but  in  vain. 

The  baron  solemnly  protested  on  his  honor,  that  although  this  sort 
of  jesting  had  considerably  displeased  him,  and  the  conduct  of  his 
lordship  the  count  had  not  been  the  friendliest,  yet  he  had  got  over 
the  afEair  ;  and  with  respect  to  the  misfortune  which  had  come  upon 
the  poet,  or  pasquinader,  or  whatsoever  his  title  might  be,  he  knew 
absolutely  nothing,  and  had  not  the  most  remote  concern  in  it. 

The  operations  of  the  strangers,  and  the  general  commotion  of  the 
house,  soon  effaced  all  recollection  of  the  matter ;  and  so,  without 
redress,  the  unlucky  favorite  had  to  pay  dear  for  the  satisfaction  of 
pluming  himself,  a  short  while,  in  feathers  not  his  own. 

Our  troup,  regularly  acting  every  night,  and  on  the  whole  very 
decently  treated,  now  began  to  make  more  clamorous  demands,  the 
better  they  were  dealt  with.  Ere  long  their  victuals,  drink,  attend- 
ance, lodging,  grew  inadequate  ;  and  they  called  upon  the  baron,  their 
protector,  to  provide  more  liberally  for  them,  and  at  last  make  good 
those  promises  of  comfortable  entertainment,  which  he  had  been 
giving  them  so  long.  Their-  complaints  grew  louder  ;  and  the  efforts 
of  our  friend  to  still  them  more  and  more  abortive. 

Meanwhile,  excepting  in  rehearsals  and  hours  of  acting,  Wilhelm 
scarcely  ever  came  abroad.  Shut  up  in  one  of  the  remotest  chambers, 
to  which  Mignon  and  the  harper  alone  had  free  access,  he  lived  and 
moved  in  the  Shakespearean  world,  feeling  or  knowing  nothing  but 
the  movements  of  his  own  mind. 

We  have  heard  of  some  enchanter  summoning,  by  magic  formulas, 
a  vast  multitude  of  spiritual  shapes  into  his  cell.  The  conjurations 
are  so  powerful  that  the  whole  space  of  the  apartment  is  quickly  full  ; 
and  the  spirits  crowding  on  to  the  verge  of  the  little  circle  which 
they  must  not  pass,  around  this,  and  above  their  master's  head,  keep 
increasing  in  number,  and  ever  whirling  in  perpetual  transformation. 
Every  corner  is  crammed,  every  crevice  is  possessed.  Embryos  ex- 
pand themselves,  and  giant  forms  contract  into  the  size  of  nuts.  Un- 
liappily  the  black-artist  has  forgot  the  counter- word,  with  which  he 
might  command  this  flood  of  sprites  again  to  ebb. 

,'   ,  So  sat  Wilhelm  in  his  privacy  ;  with  unknown  movements,  a  thou-' 

)  sand  feelings  and  capacities  awoke  in  him,  of  which  he  formerly  had 

neither  notion  nor  anticipation.     Nothing  could  allure  him  from  this 

state  ;  he  was  vexed  and  restless  if  any  one  presumed  to  come  to  him, 

and  talk  of  news  or  what  was  passing  in  the  world. 

Accordingly  he  scarce  took  notice  of  the  circumstance,  when  told 
that  a  judicial  sentence  was  about  being  executed  in  the  castle  yard  : 
the  flogging  of  a  boy,  who  had  incurred  suspicions  of  nocturnal  house- 
breaking, and  who,  as  he  wore  a  peruke-maker's  coat,  had  most  prob- 
ably been  one  of  the  assaulters  of  the  pedant.  The  boy  indeed,  it 
seemed,  denied  most  obstinately  ;  so  that  they  could  not  inflict  a  for- 
mal punishment,  but  meant  to  give  him  a  slight  memorial  as  a  vaga- 


BOOK  111.  CHAPTER  TX.  141 

bond,  and  send  him  about  his  business  ;  he  having  prowled  about  the 
neighborhood  for  several  days,  lain  at  night  in  the  mills,  and  at  last 
clapped  a  ladder  to  the  garden- wall,  and  mounted  over  by  it. 

Our  friend  saw  nothing  very  strange  in  the  transaction,  and  was 
dismissing  it  altogether,  when  Mignon  came  running  in,  and  assured 
him  that  the  criminal  was  Friedrich,  who,  since  the  rencounter  with 
the  stalhneister,  had  vanished  from  the  company,  and  not  again  been 
heard  of. 

Feeling  an  interest  in  the  boy,  Wilhelm  hastily  arose  ;  he  found, 
in  the  court-yard  of  the  castle,  the  preparations  almost  finished.  The 
count  loved  solemnity  on  these  occasions.  The  boy  being  now  led  out, 
our  friend  stepped  forward,  and  entreated  for  delay,  as  he  knew  the 
boy,  and  had  various  things  to  say  which  might  perhaps  throw  light 
on  the  affair.  He  had  difficulty  in  succeeding,  notwithstanding  all 
his  statements  ;  at  length,  however,  he  did  get  permission  to  speak 
with  the  culprit  in  private.  Friedrich  averred,  that  concerning  the 
assault  in  which  the  pedant  had  been  used  so  harshly,  he  knew  noth- 
ing whatever.  He  had  merely  been  lurking  about  ;  and  had  come  in 
at  night  to  see  Philina,  whose  room  he  had  discovered,  and  would 
certainly  have  reached,  had  he  not  been  taken  by  the  way. 

For  the  credit  of  the  company,  Wilhelm  felt  desirous  not  to  have 
the  truth  of  his  adventure  published.  He  hastened  to  the  stall- 
meister  ;  he  begged  him  to  show  favor,  and  with  his  intimate  knowl- 
edge of  men  and  things  about  the  castle,  to  find  some  means  of 
quashing  the  affair,  and  dismissing  the  boy. 

This  whimsical  gentleman,  by  Wilhelm's  help,  invented  a  little 
story  ;  how  the  boy  had  belonged  to  the  troup,  had  run  away  from  it. 
but  soon  wished  to  get  back  and  be  received  again  into  his  place  ; 
how  he  had  accordingly  been  trying  in  tlie  night  to  come  at  certain  of 
his  well-wishers,  and  solicit  their  assistance.  It  was  testified  by 
others  that  his  former  behavior  had  been  good  ;  the  ladies  put  their 
hands  to  the  work  ;  and  Friedrich  was  let  go. 

Wilhelm  took  him  in  ;  a  third  person  in  that  strange  family,  which 
for  some  time  he  had  looked  on  as  his  own.  The  old  man  and  little 
Mignon  received  the  returning  wanderer  kindly  ;  and  all  the  three 
combined  to  serve  their  friend  and  guardian  with  attention,  and  pro- 
cure him  all  the  pleasure  in  their  power. 


1 42  MEISTEU  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  X. 

PniLTNA  now  succeeded  in  insinuating  farther  every  day  into  the 
favor  of  the  ladies.  Whenever  they  were  by  themselves,  she  was 
wont  to  lead  the  conversation  on  the  men  whom  they  saw  about  the 
castle  ;  and  our  friend  was  not  the  last  or  least  important  that  en- 
gaged them.  The  cunning  girl  was  well  aware  he  had  made  a  deep 
impression  on  the  countess  ;  she  therefore  talked  about  him  often, 
telling  much  that  she  knew  or  did  not  know  ;  only  taking  care  to 
speak  of  nothing  that  might  be  interpreted  against  him  ;  eulogizing, 
on  the  contrary,  his  nobleness  of  mind,  his  generosity,  and  more  than 
all,  his  modest  and  respectful  conduct  to  the  fair  sex.  To  all  inquiries 
made  about  him  she  replied  with  equal  prudence  ;  and  the  baroness, 
when  she  observed  the  growing  inclination  of  her  amiable  friend, 
was  likewise  very  glad  at  the  discovery.  Her  own  intrigues  with 
several  men,  especially  of  late  with  Jarno,  had  not  remained  hidden 
from  the  countess,  whose  pure  soul  could  not  look  upon  such  levities 
without  disapprobation,  and  meek  though  earnest  censures. 

In  this  way,  both  Philina  and  the  baroness  were  personally  inter- 
ested in  establishing  a  closer  intercourse  between  the  countess  and 
our  friend.  Philina  hoped,  moreover,  that  there  would  occur  some 
opportunity,  when  she  might  once  more  labor  for  herself,  and  if  pos- 
sible, get  back  the  favor  of  the  young  man  she  had  lost. 

One  day  his  lordship  with  his  guests  had  ridden  out  to  hunt,  and 
their  return  was  not  expected  till  the  morrow.  On  this,  the  baroness 
devised  a  frolic,  which  was  altogether  in  her  way  ;  for  she  loved  dis- 
guises ;  and  in  order  to  surprise  her  friends,  would  suddenly  appear 
among  them  as  a  peasant  girl  at  one  time,  at  another  as  a  page,  at  an- 
other as  a  hunter's  boy.  By  which  means  she  almost  gave  herself 
the  air  of  a  little  fairy,  that  is  present  everywhere,  and  exactly  in 
the  place  where  it  is  least  expected.  Nothing  could  exceed  this  lady's 
joy,  if,  without  being  recognized,  she  could  contrive  to  wait  upon  the 
company  for  some  time  as  a  servant,  or  mix  among  them  anyhow, 
and  then  at  last  in  some  sportful  way  disclose  herself. 

Towards  night,  she  sent  for  Wilhelm  to  her  chamber  ;  and,  happen- 
ing to  have  something  else  to  do  just  then,  she  left  Philina  to  receive 
him  and  prepare  him. 

He  arrived,  and  found  to  his  surprise,  not  the  honorable  lady,  but 
the  giddy  actress  in  the  room.  She  received  him  with  a  certain  dig- 
nified openness  of  manner,  which  she  had  of  late  been  practicing,  and 
so  constrained  him  likewise  to  be  courteous. 

At  first  she  rallied  him  in  general  on  the  good  fortune  which  pur- 
sued him  everywhere,  and  which,  as  she  could  not  but  see,  had  led 
him  hither,  in  the  present  case.     Then  she  delicately  set  before  him 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  X.  143 

the  treatment  with  which  of  late  he  had  afflicted  her  ;  she  blamed 
aud  upbraided  herself  ;  confessed  that  she  had  but  too  well  deserved 
such  punishment  ;  described  with  the  greatest  candor  what  she  called 
her  former  situation  ;  adding,  that  she  would  despise  herself,  if  she 
were  not  capable  of  altering,  aud  making  lierself  worthy  of  his  friend- 
ship. 

'Wilhelm  was  struck  with  this  oration.  He  had  too  little  knowl-/ 
edge  of  the  world  to  understand  that  persons,  quite  unstable  and! 
incapable  of  all  improvement,  frequently  accuse  themselves  in  the; 
bitterest  manner,  confessing  and  deploring  their  faults  with  extreme 
ingenuousness,  though  they  possess  not  the  smallest  power  within 
them  to  retire  from  that  course,  along  which  the  irresistible  tendency 
of  their  nature  is  dragging  them  forward.  Accordingly,  he  could  not 
■find  in  his  heart  to  behave  inexorably  to  the  graceful  sinner  ;  he  en- 
tered into  conversation,  and  learned  from  her  the  project  of  a  singu- 
lar disguisement,  wherewith  it  was  intended  to  surprise  the  countess. 

He  found  some  room  for  hesitation  here  ;  nor  did  he  hide  his  scru- 
ples from  Philina  ;  but  the  baroness,  entering  at  this  moment,  left 
him  not  an  instant  for  reflection  ;  she  hurried  him  away  with  her, 
declaring  it  was  just  the  proper  hour. 

It  was  now  grown  dark.  She  took  him  to  the  count's  wardrobe  ; 
made  him  change  his  own  coat  with  his  lordship's  silk  night-gown  ; 
and  put  the  cap  with  red  trimmings  on  his  head.  She  then  led  him 
forward  to  the  cabinet  ;  and  bidding  him  sit  down  upon  the  large 
chair,  and  take  a  book,  she  lit  the  Argand  lamp,  which  stood  before 
him,  and  showed  liim  what  he  was  to  do,  and  what  kind  of  part  he 
had  to  play. 

They  would  inform  the  countess,  she  said,  of  her  husband's  unex- 
pected arrival,  and  that  he  was  in  very  bad  humor.  The  countess 
would  come  in,  walk  up  and  down  the  room  once  or  twice,  then  place 
herself  beside  the  back  of  his  chair,  lay  her  arm  upon  his  shoulder, 
and  speak  a  few  words.  He  was  to  play  the  cross  husband  as  long 
and  as  well  as  possible  :  and  when  obliged  to  disclose  himself,  he 
must  behave  politely,  handsomely  and  gallantly. 

Wilhelm  was  left  sitting,  restlessly  enough,  in  this  singular  mask. 
The  proposal  had  come  upon  him  by  surprise  ;  the  execution  of  it  got 
the  start  of  the  deliberation.  The  baroness  had  vanished  from  the 
room,  before  he  saw  how  dangerous  the  post  was  which  he  had  en- 
gaged to  fill.  He  could  not  deny  that  the  beauty,  the  youth,  the 
gracefulness  of  the  countess  had  made  some  impression  on  him  ;  but 
his  nature  was  entirely  averse  to  all  empty  gallantry,  and  his  principles 
forbade  any  thought  of  more  serious  enterprises  ;  so  that  his  perplex- 
ity at  this  moment  was  in  truth  extreme.  The  fear  of  displeasing 
the  countess,  and  that  of  pleasing  her  too  well,  were  equally  busy  in 
his  mind. 

Every  female  charm,  that  had  ever  acted  on  him,  now  showed 
itself  again  to  his  imagination.    Mariana  rose  before  him  in  her  white 


144  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

morning-gown,  and  entreated  liis  remembrance.  Pliilina's  loveli- 
ness, her  beautiful  hair,  her  insinuating  blandishments,  had  again 
become  attractive  by  her  late  presence.  Yet  all  this  retired  as  if  be- 
hind the  veil  of  distance,  when  he  figured  to  himself  the  noble  bloom- 
ing countess,  whose  arm  in  a  few  minutes  he  would  feel  upon  his 
neck,  whose  innocent  caresses  he  was  there  to  answer. 

The  strange  mode  in  which  he  was  to  be  delivered  out  of  this  per- 
plexity, he  certainly  did  not  anticipate.  We  may  judge  of  his 
astonishment,  nay  his  terror,  when  the  door  opened  behind  him  ;  and 
at  the  first  stolen  look  in  the  mirror,  he  quite  clearly  discerned  the 
count  coming  in  with  a  light  in  his  hand.  His  doubt  what  he  should 
do,  whether  he  should  sit  still  or  rise,  should  tly,  confess,  deny,  or 
beg  forgiveness,  lasted  but  a  few  instants.  The  count,  who  had 
remained  motionless  standing  in  the  door,  retired  and  shut  it  softly. 
At  the  same  moment,  the  baroness  sprang  forward  by  the  side  door, 
extinguished  the  lamp,  tore  Wilhelm  from  his  chair,  and  hurried  him 
with  her  into  the  closet.  Instantly,  he  threw  off  the  night-gown,  and 
put  it  in  its  former  place.  The  baroness  took  his  coat  under  her  arm, 
and  hastened  with  him  through  several  rooms,  passages  and  parti- 
tions, into  her  chamber  ;  where  Wilhelm,  so  soon  as  she  recovered 
breath,  was  informed  that  on  going  to  the  countess,  and  delivering 
the  fictitious  intelligence  about  her  husband's  arrival,  the  countess 
had  answered:  "I  know  it  already;  what  can  have  happened  ?  I 
saw  him  riding  in,  at  the  postern,  even  now."  On  which  the  baroness, 
in  an  excessive  panic,  had  run  to  the  count's  chamber  to  give  warning. 

"  Unhappily  you  came  too  late  !  "  said  Wilhelm.  "  The  count  was 
in  the  room  before  you,  and  saw  me  sitting."  . 

"  And  recognized  you  ?  " 

"  That  I  know  not.  He  was  looking  at  me  in  the  glass,  as  I  at 
him  ;  and  before  I  could  well  determine  whether  it  was  he  or  a  spirit, 
he  di-ew  back,  and  closed  the  door  behind  him." 

The  anxiety  of  the  baroness  increased,  when  a  servant  came  to  call 
her,  signifying  that  the  count  was  with  his  lady.  She  went  with  no 
light  heart  ;  and  found  the  count  silent  and  thoughtful  indeed,  but 
milder  and  kinder  in  his  words  than  usual.  She  knew  not  what  to 
think  of  it.  They  spoke  about  the  incidents  of  the  chase,  and  the 
causes  of  his  quick  return.  The  conversation  soon  ran  out.  The 
count  became  taciturn  ;  and  it  struck  the  baroness  particularly,  when 
he  asked  for  Wilhelm,  and  expressed  a  wish  that  he  were  sent  for, 
to  come  and  read  something. 

Wilhelm,  who  had  now  dressed  himself  in  the  baroness's  chamber, 
and  in  some  degree  recovered  his  composure,  obeyed  the  order,  not 
without  anxiety.  The  count  gave  hhii  a  book  ;  out  of  which  he  read 
an  adventurous  tale,  very  little  at  his  ease.  Ilis  voice  had  a  certain 
inconstancy  and  quivering  in  it,  which  fortunately  C(irr(>sp()nded  with 
the  import  of  the  story.  The  count  more  than  once  gave  kindly 
tokens  of  approval  ;  and  at  last  dismissed  our  friend,  with  praises  of 
liis  exquisite  manner  of  reading. 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  XL  145 


CHAPTER  XI. 

WiLHELM  had  scarcely  read  one  or  two  of  Shakespeare's  plays,  till 
their  effect  on  him  became  so  strong  that  he  could  go  no  farther.  His 
whole  soul  was  in  commotion.  He  sought  an  opportunity  to  speak 
with  Jarno  ;  to  whom,  on  meeting  with  him,  he  expressed  his  bound- 
less gratitude  for  such  delicious  entertainment. 

"I  clearly  enough  foresaw,"  said  Jarno,  "that  you  would  not  re- 
main insensible  to  the  charms  of  the  most  extraordinary  and  most 
admirable  of  all  writers. " 

"  Yes  !  "  exclaimed  our  friend  ;  "I  cannot  recollect  that  any  book, 
any  man,  any  incident  of  my  life,  has  produced  such  important  effects 
on  me,  as  the  precious  works,  to  which  by  your  kindness  I  have  been 
directed.  They  seem  as  if  they  were  performances  of  some  celestial 
genius,  descending  among  men,  to  make  them,  by  the  mildest  instruc- 
tions, acquainted  with  themselves.  They  are  no  fictions  !  You  would 
think,  while  reading  them,  you  stood  before  the  unclosed  awful  books! 
of  fate,  while  the  whirlwind  of  most  impassioned  life  was  howling! 
through  the  leaves,  and  tossing  them  fiercely  to  and  fro.  The  strength 
and  tenderness,  the  power  and  peacefulness  of  this  man  have  so 
astonished  and  transported  me,  that  I  long  vehemently  for  the  time 
when  I  shall  have  it  in  my  power  to  read  farther." 

' '  Bravo  ! "  said  Jarno,  holding  out  his  hand,  and  squeezing  our 
friend's  :  ' '  this  is  as  it  should  be  !  And  the  consequences,  which  I 
hope  for,  will  likewise  surely  follow." 

"  I  wish,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  I  could  but  disclose  to  you  all  that  is 
going  on  within  me  even  now.  All  the  anticipations  I  have  ever  had 
regarding  man  and  his  destiny,  which  have  accompanied  me  from 
youth  upwards,  often  unobserved  by  myself,  I  find  developed  and  ful- 
filled in  Shakespeare's  writings.  It  seems  as  if  he  cleared  up  every 
one  of  our  enigmas  to  us,  though  we  cannot  say  ;  HCTe  or  there  is  the 
word  of  solution.  His  men  appear  like  natural  men,  and  yet  they  are 
not.  These,  the  most  mysterious  and  complex  productions  of  creation, 
here  act  before  us  as  if  they  were  watches,  whose  dial-plates  and  cases 
were  of  crystal  ;  which  pointed  out,  according  to  their  use,  the  course 
of  the  hours  and  minutes  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  you  could  discern 
the  combination  of  wheels  and  springs  that  turned  them.  The  few 
glances  I  have  cast  over  Shakespeare's  world  incite  me,  more  than 
anything  beside,  to  quicken  my  footsteps  forward  into  the  actual 
world,  to  mingle  in  the  flood  of  destinies  that  is  suspended  over  it  ;■ 
and  at  length  if  I  shall  prosper,  to  draw  a  few  cups  from  the  great ' 
ocean  of  true  na,ture,  and  to  distribute  them  from  off  the  stage  among 
the  thirsting  people  of  my  native  land." 

"  I  feel  delighted  with  the  temper  of  mind  in  which  I  now  behold 


146  MEISTEB  'S  A  PPRENTICE8HIP. 

you,''  answered  Jarno,  laying  bis  liand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  ex- 
cited youth  ;  "  renounce  not  the  purpose  of  embarking  in  active  life. 
Make  baste  to  employ  with  alacrity  the  years  that  are  granted  you.  If 
I  can  serve  you,  I  will  with  all  my  heart.  As  yet,  I  have  not  asked 
you  how  you  came  into  this  troup,  for  which  you  certainly  were 
neither  born  nor  bred.  So  much  I  hope  and  see  :  you  long  to  be  out 
of  it.  I  know  nothing  of  your  parentage,  of  your  domestic  circum- 
stances !  consider  what  you  shall  confide  to  me.  Thus  much  only  I 
can  say ;  the  times  of  war  we  live  in  may  produce  quick  turns  of  for- 
tune ;  did  you  incline  devoting  your  strength  and  talents  to  our 
service,  not  fearing  labor,  and  if  need  were,  danger,  I  might  even  now 
have  an  opjiortunity  to  put  you  in  a  situation,  which  you  would  not 
afterwards  be  sorry  to  have  filled  for  a  time."  Wilhelm  could  not 
sufficiently  express  his  gratitude  ;  he  was  ready  to  impart  to  his  friend 
and  patron  the  whole  history  of  his  life. 

In  the  course  of  this  conversation,  they  had  wandered  far  into  the 
park,  and  at  last  came  upon  the  highway  that  crossed  it.  Jarno  stood 
silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  said  :  "Deliberate  on  my  proposal, 
determine,  give  me  your  answer  in  a  few  days,  and  then  let  me  have 
the  narrative  you  mean  to  trust  me  with.  I  assure  you,  it  has  all 
along  to  me  seemed  quite  incomprehensible,  how  you  ever  could  have 
anything  to  do  with  such  a  class  of  people.  I  have  often  thought 
with  vexation  and  spleen,  how,  in  order  to  gain  a  paltry  living,  you 
must  fix  your  heart  on  a  wandering  ballad-monger,  and  a  silly  mon- 
grel, neither  male  nor  female." 

He  had  not  yet  concluded,  when  an  officer  on  horseback  came  hastily 
along  :  a  groom  following  him  with  a  led  horse.  Jarno  shouted  a 
warm  salutation  to  him.  The  ofiicer  sprang  from  his  horse  ;  Jarno 
and  he  embraced,  and  talked  together  :  while  Wilhelm,  confounded 
at  the  last  expressions  of  his  warlike  friend,  stood  thoughtfully  at  a 
side.  Jarno  turned  over  some  paper  which  the  stranger  had  delivered 
to  him  ;  while  the  latter  came  to  Wilhelm  ;  held  out  his  hand,  and 
.said  Avith  emphasia  ;  "I  find  you  in  worthy  company  ;  follow  the 
counsel  of  your  friend  ;  and  by  doing  so,  accomplish  likewise  the  de- 
sire of  an  unknown  man,  who  takes  a  genuine  interest  in  you."  So 
saying,  he  embraced  Wilhelm  and  jaressed  him  cordially  to  his  breast. 
At  the  same  instant,  Jarno  advanced,  and  said  to  the  stranger  :  "  It  is 
best  that  I  ride  on  with  you  :  by  this  means  you  may  get  the  necessary 
orders,  and  set  out  again  before  night."  Both  then  leaped  into  their 
saddles,  and  left  our  astonished  friend  to  his  own  reflections. 

Jarno's  last  words  were  .still  ringing  in  his  ears.  It  galled  him 
to  see  the  two  human  beings,  that  had  most  innocently  won  his 
affections,  so  grievously  disparaged  by  a  man  whom  he  honored  so 
much.  The  strange  embracing  of  tlie  officer,  whom  he  knew  not, 
made  but  a  slight  impression  on  him  ;  it  occupied  his  curiosity  and  his 
imagination  for  the  moment  :  but  Jarno's  speech  had  cut  him  to  the 
heart ;  he  was  deeply  hurt  by  it ;  and  now,  in  his  way  homewards,  he 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  XT.  147 

broke  out  into  reproaches  against  himself,  that  he  should  for  a  single 
instant  have  mistaken  or  forgotten  the  unfeeling  coldness  of  Jaruo, 
which  looked  out  from  his  very  eyes,  and  spoke  in  all  his  gestures. 
"  No  I "  exclaimed  he,  "  thou  conceivest,  dead-hearted  worldJBng,  that 
thou  canst  be  a  friend  '?  All  that  thou  hast  power  to  offer  me  is  not 
worth  the  sentiment  which  binds  me  to  these  forlorn  beings.  How 
fortunate,  that  I  have  discovered  in  time  what  I  had  to  expect  from 
thee  ! " 

Mignon  came  to  meet  him  as  he  entered  ;  he  clasped  her  in  his 
arms,  exclaiming  :  "  Nothing,  nothing  shall  part  us,  thou  good  little 
creature  !  The  seeming  prudence  of  the  world  shall  never  cause  me 
to  forsake  thee,  or  forget  what  I  owe  thee." 

The  child,  whose  warm  caresses  he  had  been  accustomed  to  avoid, 
rejoiced  with  all  her  heart  at  this  unlooked-for  show  of  tenderness, 
and  clung  so  fast  to  him,  that  he  had  some  difficulty  to  get  loose 
from  her. 

From  this  period,  he  kept  a  stricter  eye  on  Jarno's  conduct :  many 
parts  of  it  he  did  not  think  quite  praiseworthy  ;  nay  several  things 
came  out,  which  totally  displeased  him.  He  had  strong  suspicions, 
*for  example,  that  the  verses  on  the  baron,  which  the  poor  pedant  had 
so  dearly  paid  for,  were  composed  by  Jaruo.  And  as  the  latter,  in 
Wilhelm's  presence,  had  made  sport  of  the  adventure,  our  friend 
thought  here  was  certainly  a  symptom  of  a  most  corrupted  heart ;  for 
what  could  be  more  depraved  than  to  treat  a  guiltless  person,  whose 
griefs  one's  self  had  occasioned,  with  jeering  and  mockery,  instead  of 
trying  to  satisfy  or  to  indemnify  him?  In  this  matter,  Wilhelm 
would  himself  willingly  have  brought  about  reparation  ;  and  ere  long 
a  very  curious  accident  led  him  to  obtain  some  traces  of  the  persons 
concerned  in  that  nocturnal  outrage. 

Hitherto  his  friends  had  contrived  to  keep  him  unacquainted  with 
the  fact,  that  some  of  the^-oung  officers  were  in  the  habit  of  passing 
whole  nights,  in  merriment  and  jollity,  with  certain  actors  and 
actresses,  in  the  lower  hall  of  the  old  castle.  One  morning,  having 
risen  early  according  to  his  custom,  he  happened  to  visit  this  cham- 
ber, and  found  the  gallant  gentlemen  just  in  the  act  of  performing 
rather  a  singular  operation.  They  had  mixed  a  bowl  of  water  with 
a  quantity  of  chalk,  and  were  plastering  this  gruel  with  a  brush  upon 
their  waistcoats  and  pantaloons,  without  stripping  ;  thus  very  expe- 
ditiously restoring  the  spotlessness  of  their  apparel.  On  witnessing 
this  piece  of  ingenuity,  our  friend  was  at  once  stinick  with  the  recol- 
lection of  the  poor  pedant's  whited  and  bedusted  coat  :  his  suspicions 
gathered  strength,  when  he  learned  that  some  relations  of  the  baron's 
were  among  the  party. 

To  throw  some  light  on  his  doubts,  he  engaged  the  youths  to  break- 
fast with  him.  They  were  very  lively,  and  told  a  multitude  of 
jjleasaut  stories.  One  of  them  especially,  who  for  a  time  had  been 
on  the  recruiting  service,  was  loud  in  praising  the  craft  and  activity 


149  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  his  captain  ;  who,  it  appeared,  understood  the  art  of  alluring  tfielV 
of  all  kinds  towards  him,  and  overreaching  every  one  by  the  decej)- 
tion  proper  for  him.  He  circumstantially  described,  how  several 
young  people  of  good  families  and  careful  education  had  been  cozened, 
by  playing  oflf  to  them  a  thousand  promises  of  honor  and  preferment  ; 
and  he  heartily  laughed  at  the  simpletons,  who  felt  so  gratified,  when 
first  enlisted,  at  the  thought  of  being  esteemed  and  introduced  to 
notice  by  so  reputable,  prudent,  bold  and  munificent  an  officer. 

Wilhelm  blessed  his  better  genius  for  having  drawn  him  back  in 
time  from  the  abyss,  to  whose  brink  he  had  approached  so  near.  Jarno 
he  now  looked  upon  as  nothing  better  than  a  crimp  ;  the  embrace  of 
the  stranger  officer  was  easily  explained.  He  viewed  the  feelings  and 
opinions  of  these  men  with  contempt  and  disgust :  from  that  moment 
he  carefully  avoided  coming  into  contact  with  any  one  that  wore  a 
uniform  ;  and  when  he  heard  that  the  army  was  about  to  move  its 
quarters,  the  news  would  have  been  extremely  welcome  to  him,  if  he 
had  not  feared  that  immediately  on  its  departure,  he  himself  must  be 
banished  from  the  neighborhood  of  his  lovely  friend,  perhaps  forever. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Meanwhile  the  baroness  had  spent  several  days  disquieted  by 
anxious  fears  and  unsatisfied  curiosity.  Since  the  late  adventure,  the 
count's  demeanor  had  been  altogether  an  enigma  to  her.  His  manner 
was  changed  ;  none  of  his  customary  jokes  were  to  be  heard.  His 
demands  on  the  company  and  the  servants  had  very  much  abated. 
Little  pedantry  or  imperiousness  was  now  to  be  discerned  in  him  ;  he 
was  silent  and  thoughtful  ;  yet  withal  he  seemed  composed  and  placid  ; 
in  short,  he  was  quite  another  man.  In  choosing  the  books  which 
now  and  then  he  caused  to  be  read  to  him,  those  of  a  serious,  often  a 
religious  cast  were  pitched  upon  ;  and  the  baroness  lived  in  perpetual 
fright  lest,  beneath  this  apparent  serenity,  a  secret  rancor  might  be 
lurking  ;  a  silent  purpose  to  revenge  the  offense  he  had  so  accident- 
ally discovered.  She  determined,  therefore,  to  make  Jarno  her  confi- 
dant ;  and  this  the  more  freely,  as  that  gentleman  and  she  already 
stood  in  a  relation  to  each  other,  where  it  is  not  usual  to  be  very 
cautious  in  keeping  secrets.  For  some  time  Jarno  had  been  her 
dearest  friend  ;  yet  tl>ey  had  been  dexterous  enough  to  conceal  their 
attachment  and  joys  from  the  noisy  world  in  which  they  moved.  To 
the  countess  alone  this  new  romance  had  not  remained  unknown  ;  and 
very  possibly  the  l)aroness  might  wish  to  get  her  fair  friend  occupied 
with  some  similar  engagement,  and  thus  to  escape  the  silent  reproaches 
she  had  often  to  endure  froni  that  noble-minded  woman. 

Scarcely  had  the  baroness  related  the  occurrence  to  her  lover,  when 


BOOK  III.  CHAPTER  XII.  14^ 

he  cried  out,  laughing  :  "  To  a  certainty  tlie  old  fool  believes  that  he 
has  seen  his  ghost !  He  dreads  that  the  vision  may  betoken  some 
misfortune,  perhaps  death  to  him  ;  and  so  he  is  become  quite  tame,  as 
all  half-men  do,  in  thinking  of  that  consummation  which  no  one  has 
escaped,  or  will  escape.  Softly  a  little  !  As  I  hope  he  will  live  long 
enough,  we  may  now  train  him  at  least,  so  that  he  shall  not  again 
give  disturbance  to  his  wife  and  household." 

.  They  accordingly,  as  soon  as  any  opportunity  occurred,  began  talk- 
ing, in  the  presence  of  the  count,  about  warnings,  visions,  appari- 
tions, and  the  like.  Jarno  played  the  skeptic,  the  baroness  likewise  ; 
and  they  carried  it  so  far,  that  his  lordship  at  last  took  Jarno  aside, 
reproved  him  for  his  free-thinking,  and  produced  his  own  experience 
to  prove  the  possibility,  nay  actual  occurrence,  of  such  preternatural 
events.  Jarno  affected  to  be  struck  ;  to  be  in  doubt  ;  and  finally  to  be 
convinced  ;  but  in  private  with  his  fi'iend,  he  made  himself  so  much 
the  merrier  at  the  credulous  weakling,  who  had  thus  been  cured  of 
his  evil  habits  by  a  bugbear,  but  who,  they  admitted,  still  deserved 
some  praise  for  expecting  dire  calamity,  or  death  itself,  with  such 
composure. 

"  The  natural  result,  which  the  present  apparition  might  have  had, 
would  possibly  have  ruffled  him  !  "  exclaimed  the  baroness,  with  her 
wonted  vivacity  ;  to  which,  when  anxiety  was  taken  from  her  heart, 
she  instantly  returned.  Jarno  was  richly  rewarded  ;  and  the  two 
contrived  fresh  projects  for  frightening  the  count  still  farther  ;  and 
still  farther  exciting  and  confirming  the  affection  of  the  countess  for 
Wilhelm. 

With  this  intention,  the  whole  story  was  related  to  the  countess. 
She,  indeed,  expressed  her  displeasure  at  such  conduct  ;  but  from 
that  time  she  became  more  thoughtful,  and  in  peaceful  moments 
seemed  to  be  considering,  pursuing  and  painting  out  that  scene  which 
had  been  prepared  for  her. 

The  preparations,  now  going  forward  on  every  side,  left  no  room 
for  doubt  that  the  annies  were  soon  to  move  in  advance,  and  the 
prince  at  the  same  time  to  change  his  headquarters.  It  was  even 
said  that  the  count  intended  leaving  his  castle,  and  returning  to  the 
city.  Our  players  could,  therefore,  without  difficulty,  calculate  the 
aspect  of  their  stars  ;  yet  none  of  them,  except  Melina,  took  any 
measures  in  consequence  :  the  rest  strove  only  to  catch  as  much  enjoy- 
ment as  they  could  from  the  moment  that  was  passing  over  them. 

Wilhelm,  in  the  meantime,  was  engaged  with  a  peculiar  task.  The 
countess  had  required  from  him  a  copy  of  his  writings,  and  he  looked 
on  this  request  as  the  noblest  recompense  for  his  labors. 

A  young  author,  who  has  not  yet  seen  himself  in  print,  will,  in  such 
a  case,  apply  no  ordinary  care  to  provide  a  clear  and  beautiful  tran- 
script of  his  works.  It  is  like  the  golden  age  of  authorship  ;  he  feels 
transported  into  those  centuries  when  the  press  had  not  inundated  the 
world  with  so  many  useless  writings,  when  none  but  excellent  per- 


156  MEIBTEB'S  APPBENTIGEBHIP. 

formances  were  copied  and  kept  by  the  noblest  men  ;  and  be  easily 
admits  tbe  illusion,  that  bis  own  accurately  ruled  and  measured  manu- 
script may  itself  prove  an  excellent  performance,  worthy  to  be  kept 
and  valued  by  some  future  critic. 

The  prince  being  shortly  to  depart,  a  great  entertainment  had  been 
appointed  in  honor  of  him.  Many  ladies  of  the  neighborhood  were 
invited ;  and  the  countess  had  dressed  herself  betimes.  On  this 
occasion,  she  had  taken  a  costlier  suit  than  usual.  Her  head-dress, 
and  the  decorations  of  her  hair,  were  more  exquisite  and  studied  ;  she 
wore  all  her  jewels.  The  baroness,  too,  had  done  her  utmost  to  appear 
with  becoming  taste  and  splendor. 

Philina,  observing  that  both  ladies,  in  expectation  of  their  guests, 
felt  the  time  rather  tedious,  proposed  to  send  for  Wilhelm,  who  was 
wishing  to  present  his  manuscript,  now  completed,  and  to  read  them 
some  other  little  pieces.  He  came,  and  on  his  entrance  was  astonished 
at  the  form  and  the  graces  of  the  countess,  which  her  decorations  had 
but  made  more  visible  and  striliiug.  Being  ordered  by  the  ladies,  he 
began  to  read  ;  but  with  so  much  absence  of  mind  and  so  badly,  that 
had  not  his  audience  been  excessively  indulgent,  they  would  very  soon 
have  dismissed  him. 

Every  time  he  looked  at  the  countess,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  a  spark 
of  electric  fire  were  glancing  before  his  eyes.  In  the  end,  he  knew 
not  where  to  find  the  breath  he  wanted  for  his  reading.  The  countess 
had  always  pleased  him  ;  but  now  it  appeared  as  if  he  never  had 
beheld  a  being  so  perfect  and  so  lovely.  A  thousand  thoughts  flitted 
up  and  down  his  soul ;  what  follows  might  be  nearly  their  substance. 
I  "  How  foolish  is  it  in  so  many  poets,  and  men  of  sentiment,  as  they 
are  called,  to  make  war  on  pomp  and  decoration;  requiring  that 
I  women  of  all  ranks  should  wear  no  dress  but  what  is  simple  and 
conformable  to  nature  !  They  rail  at  decoration,  without  once  con- 
sidering that  when  we  see  a  plain  or  positively  ugly  person  clothed  in 
a  costly  and  gorgeous  fashion,  it  is  not  the  poor  decoration  that  dis- 
.  pleases  us.  I  would  assemble  all  the  judges  in  the  world,  and  ask 
/  them  here  if  they  wished  to  see  one  of  these  folds,  of  these  ribbons 
and  laces,  these  braids,  ringlets,  and  glancing  stones  removed? 
Would  they  not  dread  disturbing  the  delightful  impression  that  so 
naturally  and  spontaneously  meets  us  here  ?  Yes,  naturally,  I  will 
say  I  As  Minerva  sprang  in  complete  armor  from  the  head  of  Jove, 
so  does  this  goddess  seem  to  have  stepped  forth  with  a  light  foot,  in 
all  her  ornaments,  from  the  bosom  of  some  flower." 

While  reading,  he  turned  his  eyes  upon  her  frequently,  as  if  he 
wished  to  stamp  this  image  on  his  soul  forever  ;  he  more  than  once 
read  wrong,  yet  without  falling  into  confusion  of  mind ;  though,  at 
other  times,  he  used  to  feel  the  mistaking  of  a  word  or  a  letter  as  a 
painful  deformity,  which  spoiled  a  whole  recitation. 

A  false  alarm  of  the  arrival  of  the  guests  put  an  end  to  the  reading  ; 
the  baroness  went  out ;  and  the  countess,  while   about  to  shut  lier 


BOOK  in.  CHAPTER  XIL  151 

writing-desk,  which  was  standing  open,  toolc  up  her  casket,  and  put 
some  other  rings  upon  her  finger.  "  We  are  soon  to  part,"  said  slie, 
keeping  her  eyes  upon  the  casket :  ' '  accept  a  memorial  of  a  true 
friend,  who  wishes  nothing  more  earnestly  than  that  you  may  always 
prosper."  She  then  took  out  a  ring,  which,  underneath  a  crystal, 
bore  a  little  plait  of  woven  hair  beautifully  set  with  diamonds.  She 
held  it  out  to  Wilhelm,  who,  on  taking  it,  knew  neither  what  to  say 
nor  do,  but  stood  as  if  rooted  to  the  ground.  The  countess  shut  her 
desk,  and  sat  down  upon  the  sofa. 

"And  I  must  go  empty?"  said  Philina,  kneeling  down  at  the 
countess's  right  hand.  "  Do  but  look  at  the  man  ;  he  carries  such  a 
store  of  words  in  his  mouth,  when  no  one  wants  to  hear  them  ;  and 
now  he  cannot  stammer  out  the  poorest  syllable  of  thanks.  Quick, 
sir  !  Express  your  services  by  way  of  pantomime,  at  least  ;  and  if 
to-day  you  can  invent  nothing,  then,  for  Heaven's  sake,  be  my  imi- 
tator. " 

Philina  seized  the  right  hand  of  the  countess,  and  kissed  it  warmly. 
Wilhelm  sank  upon  his  knee,  laid  hold  of  the  left,  and  pressed  it  to 
his  lips.     The  countess  seemed  embarrassed,  yet  without  displeasure. 

"Ah!"  cried  Philina,  "so  much  splendor  of  attire  I  may  have 
seen  before  ;  but  never  one  so  fit  to  wear  it.  What  bracelets,  but 
also  what  a  hand  !     What  a  necklace,  but  also  what  a  bosom  !  " 

"  Peace,  little  cozener  !  "  said  the  countess. 

"Is  this  his  lordship  then?"  said  Philina,  pointing  to  a  rich  medal- 
ion,  which  the  countess  wore  on  her  left  side,  by  a  particular  chain. 

"He  is  painted  in  his  bridegroom  dress,"  replied  the  countess. 

"  Was  he  then  so  young?"  inquired  Philina  ;  " I  know  it  is  but  a 
year  or  two  since  you  were  married." 

"His  youth  must  be  placed  to  the  artist's  account,"  replied  the 
lady. 

"He  is  a  handsome  man,"  observed  Philina.  "But  was  there 
never,"  she  continued,  placing  her  hand  on  the  countess's  heart, 
"  never  any  other  image  that  found  its  way  in  secret  hither?  " 

"Thou  art  very  bold,  Philina  !  "  cried  she  ;  "  I  have  spoiled  thee. 
Let  me  never  hear  the  like  again." 

"If  you  are  angry,  then  am  I  unhappy,"  said  Philina,  springing 
up,  and  hastening  from  the  room. 

Wilhelm  still  held  that  lovely  hand  in  both  of  his.  His  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  bracelet-clasp  ;  he  noticed,  with  extreme  surprise,  that 
his  initials  were  traced  on  it,  in  lines  of  brilliants. 

"Have  I  then,"  he  modestly  inquired,  "your  own  hair  in  this 
precious  ring?" 

"Yes,"  replied  she,  in  a  faint  voice  ;  then  suddenly  collecting  her- 
self, she  said,  and  pressed  his  hand  :  "  Arise,  and  fare  you  well  ! " 

"  Here  is  my  name,"  cried  he,  "  by  the  most  curious  chance  !"  He 
pointed  to  the  bracelet-clasp. 

"  How?  "  cried  the  countess  :  "  it  is  the  cipher  of  a  female  friend  ! " 


152  MEISTER'S  APPBENTI0E8HIP. 

"  They  are  the  initials  of  my  name.  Forget  me  not.  Your  image 
is  engraven  on  my  heart,  and  will  never  be  effaced.  Farewell !  I 
must  be  gone." 

He  kissed  her  hand,  and  meant  to  rise  ;  but  as  in  dreams,  some 
strange  thing  fades  and  changes  into  something  stranger,  and  the  suc- 
ceeding wonder  takes  us  by  surprise  ;  so,  Avithout  knowing  how  it 
happened,  he  found  the  countess  in  his  arms  ;  her  lips  were  resting 
upon  his,  and  their  warm  mutual  kisses  were  yielding  them  that 
blessedness,  which  mortals  sip  from  the  topmost  sparkling  foam  on 
the  freshly-poured  cup  of  love. 

Her  head  lay  on  his  shoulder  ;  the  disordered  ringlets  and  ruffles 
were  forgotten.  She  had  thrown  her  arm  round  him  ;  he  clasped  her 
with  vivacity  ;  and  pressed  her  again  and  again  to  his  breast.  O  that 
such  a  moment  could  but  last  forever  !  And  woe  to  envious  fate  that 
sliortened  even  this  brief  moment  to  our  friends  ! 

How  terrified  was  Wilhelm,  how  astounded  did  he  start  from  his 
happy  dream,  when  the  countess,  with  a  shriek,  on  a  sudden  tore 
herself  away,  and  hastily  pressed  her  hand  against  her  heart. 

He  stood  confounded  before  her  ;  she  held  the  other  hand  upon  her 
eyes,  and,  after  a  moment's  pause,  exclaimed:  "Away  !  leave  me  ! 
delay  not  ! " 

He  continued  standing. 

"  Leave  me  ! "  she  cried  ;  and  taking  off  her  hand  from  her  eyes, 
she  loolied  at  him  with  an  indescribable  expression  of  countenance  ; 
and  added,  in  the  most  tender  and  affecting  voice :  ' '  Fly,  if  you 
love  me." 

Wilhelm  was  out  of  the  chamber,  and  again  in  his  room,  before  he 
knew  what  he  was  doing. 

Unhappy  creatures  !  What  singular  warning  of  chance  or  of  des- 
tiny tore  them  asunder  ? 


BOOK  tV.  CHAPTER  I  153 


BOOK   IV. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Laertes  was  standing  at  the  window  in  a  thouglitful  mood,  resting 
on  liis  arm,  and  looking  ont  into  tlie  fields.  Pliilina  came  gliding  to- 
wards him,  across  the  large  hall  ;  she  leant  upon  him,  and  began  to 
mock  him  for  his  serious  looks. 

"  Do  not  laugh,"  replied  he  ;  "it  is  frightful  to  think  how  Time 
goes  on,  how  all  things  change  and  have  an  end.  See  here  !  A  little 
while  ago  there  was  a  stately  camp  :  how  pleasantly  the  tents  looked  ; 
what  restless  life  and  motion  was  within  them  ;  how  carefully  they 
watched  the  whole  inclosure  !  And  behold,  it  is  all  vanished  in  a 
day  !  For  a  short  while,  that  trampled  straw,  those  holes  which  the 
cooks  have  dug,  will  show  a  trace  of  what  was  here  ;  and  soon  the 
whole  will  be  plowed  and  reaped  as  formerly,  and  the  presence  of 
so  many  thousand  gallant  fellows  in  this  quarter  will  but  glimmer  in 
the  memories  of  one  or  two  old  men." 

Philina  began  to  sing,  and  dragged  forth  her  friend  to  dance  with 
her  in  the  hall.  "  Since  Time  is  not  a  person  we  can  overtake  when 
he  is  past,"  cried  she,  "  let  us  honor  him  with  mirth  and  cheerfulness 
of  heart  while  he  is  passing." 

They  had  scarcely  made  a  step  or  two,  when  Frau  Melina  came 
walking  through  the  hall.  Philina  was  Micked  enough  to  invite  her 
to  join  them  in  the  dance,  and  thus  to  bring  her  in  mind  of  the  shape 
to  which  her  pregnancy  had  reduced  her. 

"  That  I  may  never  more  see  a  woman  in  an  interesting  situation/  " 
said  Philina,  when  her  back  was  turned. 

' '  Yet  she  feels  an  interest  in  it,"  said  Laertes, 

"But  she  manages  so  shockingly.  Didst  thou  notice  that  wabbling 
fold  of  her  shortened  petticoat,  wliich  always  travels  out  before  her 
when  she  moves  ?  She  has  not  the  smallest  knack  or  skill  to  trim 
herself  a  little,  and  conceal  her  state." 

"Let  her  be,"  said  Laertes  ;  "  time  will  soon  come  to  her  aid." 

"It  were  prettier,  however,"  cried  Philina,  "if  we  could  shake 
children  from  the  trees." 

The  baron  entered,  and  spoke  some  kind  words  to  them,  adding  a 
few  presents,  in  the  name  of  the  count  and  the  countess,  who  had  left 
the  place  very  early  in  the  morning.  Ho  then  went  to  Wilhelm,  who 
was  busy  in  the  side  chamber  with  Mignon.  She  had  been  extremely 
affectionate  and  taking  ;  had  asked  minutely  about  Wilhelm's  parents, 


154  MEI8T£JR'S  APPBENTIGESHIP. 

brothers,  sisters  and  relations  ;  and  so  brought  to  his  mind  the  duty 
which  he  owed  his  people,  to  send  them  some  tidings  of  himself. 

With  the  farewell  compliments  of  the  family,  the  baron  delivered 
him  an  assurance  from  the  count,  that  his  lordship  had  been  exceed- 
ingly obliged  by  his  acting,  his  poetical  labors  and  his  theatrical  exer- 
tions. For  proof  of  this  statement,  the  baron  then  drew  forth  a  purse, 
through  whose  beautiful  texture  the  bright  glance  of  new  gold  coin 
was  sparkling  out.     Wilhelm  drew  back,  refusing  to  accept  of  it. 

"  Look  upon  this  gift,"  said  the  baron,  "  as  a  compensation  for  your 
time,  as  an  acknowledgment  of  your  trouble,  not  as  the  reward  of  your 
talents.  If  genius  procures  us  a  good  name  and  good  will  from  men, 
it  is  fair  likewise  that,  by  our  diligence  and  efforts,  we  should  earn 
the  means  to  satisfy  our  wants  ;  since,  after  all,  we  are  not  wholly 
spirit.  Had  we  been  in  town,  wliere  everything  is  to  be  got,  we 
should  have  changed  this  little  sum  into  a  watch,  a  ring  or  something 
of  that  sort  ;  but  as  it  is,  I  must  place  the  magic  rod  in  your  own 
hands  ;  procure  a  trinket  with  it,  such  as  may  please  you  best  and  be 
of  greatest  use,  and  keep  it  for  our  sakes.  At  the  same  time,  you 
must  not  forget  to  hold  the  purse  in  honor.  It  was  knit  by  the  fin- 
gers of  our  ladies  ;  they  meant  that  the  cover  should  give  to  its  contents 
the  most  pleasing  form." 

"Forgive  my  embarrassment,"  said  Wilhelm,  "and  my  doubts 
about  accepting  this  present.  It  as  it  were  annihilates  the  little  I 
have  done,  and  hinders  the  free  play  of  happy  recollection.  Money  is 
a  fine  thing,  when  any  matter  is  to  be  completely  settled  and  abolished  ; 
I  feel  unwilling  to  be  so  entirely  abolished  from  the  recollection  of 
your  house." 

"  That  is  not  the  case,"  replied  the  baron  ;  "  but  feeling  so  tenderly 
yourself,  you  could  not  wish  that  the  count  should  be  obliged  to  con- 
sider himself  wholly  your  debtor  ;  especially  when  I  assure  you,  that 
his  lordship's  highest  ambition  has  always  consisted  in  being  punc- 
tual and  just.  He  is  not  uninformed  of  the  labor  you  have  under- 
gone, or  of  the  zeal  with  which  you  have  devoted  all  your  time  to 
execute  his  views  ;  nay  he  is  aware  that,  to  quicken  certain  opera- 
tions, you  have  even  expended  money  of  your  own.  With  what  face 
shall  I  appear  before  him,  then,  if  I  cannot  say  that  his  acknowledg- 
ment has  given  you  satisfaction  ?" 

"  If  I  thought  only  of  myself,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "  if  I  might  follow 
merely  the  dictates  of  my  own  feelings,  I  should  certainly,  in  spite  of 
all  these  reasons,  steadfastly  refuse  this  gift,  generous  and  honorable 
as  it  is  ;  but  I  will  not  deny,  that  at  the  very  moment  when  it  brings 
me  into  one  perplexity,  it  frees  me  from  another,  into  which  I  have 
lately  fallen  with  regard  to  my  relations,  and  which  has  in  secret 
caused  me  much  uneasiness.  My  nuxnagement,  not  only  of  the  time, 
but  also  of  the  money,  for  which  I  have  to  give  account,  has  not  been 
the  best  ;  and  now,  by  the  kindness  of  his  lordship,  I  shall  be  en- 
abled, with  confidence,  to  give  my  people  news  of  the  good  fortune 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  I.  155 

to  which  this  curious  by-path  has  led  me.  I  therefore  sacrifice  those 
feelings  of  delicacy,  which  like  a  tender  conscience  admonish  us  on 
such  occasions,  to  a  higher  duty  ;  and,  that  I  may  appear  courageously 
before  my  father,  I  must  consent  to  stand  ashamed  before  you." 

"It  is  singular,"  replied  the  baron,  "  to  see  what  a  world  of  hesita- 
tion people  feel  about  accepting  money  from  their  friends  and 
patrons,  though  ready  to  receive  any  other  gift  with  joy  and  thankful- 
ness. Human  nature  manifests  some  other  such  peculiarities,  by 
which  many  scruples  of  a  similar  kind  are  produced  and  carefully 
cherished." 

"  Is  it  not  the  same  with  all  points  of  honor  ?  "  said  our  friend. 

"  It  is  so,"  replied  the  baron  ;  "  and  with  several  other  prejudices. 
We  must  not  root  them  out,  lest,  in  doing  so,  we  tear  up  noble  plants 
along  with  them.  Yet  I  am  always  glad  when  I  meet  with  men,  that 
feel  superior  to  such  objections,  when  the  case  requires  it ;  and  I 
think  with  pleasure  on  the  story  of  that  ingenious  poet,  which  I  dare 
say  you  have  heard  of.  He  had  vn*itten  several  plays  for  the  court 
theater,  which  were  honored  by  the  warmest  approbation  of  the 
monarch.  '  I  must  give  him  a  distinguished  recompense,'  said  the 
generous  prince  ;  '  ask  him  whether  he  would  choose  to  have 
some  jewel  given  him  ;  or  if  he  would  disdain  to  accept  a  sum  of 
money.'  In  his  humorous  way  the  poet  answered  the  inquiring 
courtier  :  '  I  am  thankful,  with  all  my  heart,  for  these  gracious  pur- 
poses ;  and  as  the  emperor  is  daily  taking  money  from  us,  I  see  not 
wherefore  I  should  feel  ashamed  of  taking  some  from  him.'  " 

Scarcely  had  the  baron  left  the  room,  when  Wilhelm  eagerly  began' 
to  count  the  cash,  which  had  come  to  him  so  unexpectedly,  and,  as  he 
thought,  so  undeservedly.  It  seemed  as  if  the  worth  and  dignity  of. 
gold,  not  usually  felt  till  later  years,  had  now,  by  anticipation,  I 
twinkled  in  his  eye  for  the  first  time,  as  the  fine  glancing  coins  rolled! 
out  from  the  beautiful  purse.  He  reclvoned  up,  and  found  that,  par- 
ticularly as  Melina  had  engaged  immediately  to  pay  the  loan,  he  had 
now  as  much  or  more  on  the  right  side  of  his  account,  as  on  that  day 
when  Philina  first  asked  him  for  the  nosegay.  With  a  little  secret 
satisfaction,  he  looked  upon  his  talents  ;  with  a  little  pride,  upon  the 
fortune  which  had  led  him  and  attended  him.  He  now  seized  the  pen, 
with  an  assured  mind,  to  write  a  letter,  which  might  free  his  family 
from  their  anxieties,  and  set  his  late  proceedings  in  the  most  favor- 
able light.  He  abstained  from  any  special  narrative  ;  and  only  by 
significant  and  mysterious  hints,  left  them  room  for  guessing  at  what 
had  befallen  him.  The  good  condition  of  his  cash-book,  the  advan- 
tage he  had  earned  by  his  talents,  the  favor  of  the  great  and  of  the 
fair,  acquaintance  with  a  wider  circle,  the  improvement  of  his  bodily 
and  mental  gifts,  his  hopes  from  the  future,  altogether  formed  such 
a  fair  cloud-picture,  that  Fata  Morgana  itself  could  scarcely  have 
thrown  together  a  stranger  or  a  better. 

In  this  happy  exaltatioi^,  the  letter  being  folded  up,  he  went  on  tq 


156  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

maintain  a  conversation  with  himself,  recapitulating  what  he  had 
been  writing,  and  pointing  out  for  himself  an  active  and  glorious 
future.  The  example  of  so  many  gallant  warriors  had  fired  him  ; 
the  poetry  of  Shakespeare  opened  a  new  world  to  him  ;  from  the  lips 
of  the  beautiful  countess  he  had  inhaled  an  inexpressil)le  inspiration. 
All  this  could  not  and  would  not  be  without  effect. 

The  stallmeister  came  to  inquire  whether  they  were  ready  with 
their  packing.  Alas  !  with  the  single  exception  of  Melina,  no  one  of 
them  had  thought  of  it.  Now,  however,  they  were  speedily  to  be  in 
motion.  The  count  had  engaged  to  have  the  whole  party  conveyed 
forward  a  few  days'  journey  on  their  way  ;  the  horses  now  Avere  in 
readiness,  and  could  not  long  be  wanted.  Wilhelm  asked  for  his 
trunk  :  Frau  Melina  had  taken  it  to  put  her  own  things  in.  He  asked 
for  money  :  Herr  Melina  had  stowed  it  all  far  down  at  the  bottom  of 
his  box.  Philina  said  she  had  still  some  room  in  hers  ;  she  took  Wil- 
helm's  clothes,  and  bade  Mignon  bring  the  rest.  Wilhelm,  not  with- 
out reluctance,  was  obliged  to  let  it  be  so. 

While  they  were  loading,  and  getting  all  things  ready,  Melma  said  : 
"  I  am  sorry  we  should  travel  like  mountebanks  and  rope-dancers ;  I 
could  wish  that  Mignon  would  put  on  girl's  clothes,  and  that  the 
harper  would  let  his  beard  be  shorn."  Mignon  clung  firmly  to  Wil- 
helm, and  cried,  with  great  vivacity:  "  I  am  a  boy;  1  will  be  no  girl  !" 
The  old  man  held  his  peace  ;  and  Philina,  on  this  suggestion,  made 
some  merry  observations  oh  the  singularity  of  their  protector,  the 
count.  "  If  the  harper  should  cut  off  his  beard,"  said  she,  "  let  him 
sew  it  carefully  upon  a  ribbon,  and  keep  it  by  him,  that  he  may  put 
it  on  again  whenever  his  lordship,  the  count,  falls  in  with  him  in  any 
quarter  of  the  world.  It  was  this  beard  alone  that  procured  him  the 
favor  of  his  lordship." 

On  being  pressed  to  give  an  explanation  of  this  singular  speech,  Phi- 
lina said  to  them  :  "  The  count  thinks  it  contributes  very  much  to  the 
completeness  of  theatrical  illusion,  if  the  actor  continues  to  play  his 
part,  and  to  sustain  his  character,  even  in  common  life.  It  was  for 
this  reason  that  he  showed  such  favor  to  the  pedant  ;  and  he  judged 
it,  in  like  manner,  very  fitting  that  the  harper  not  only  wore  his  false 
beard  at  nights  on  the  stage,  but  also  constantly  by  day  ;  and  he  used 
to  be  delighted  at  the  natural  appearance  of  the  mask." 

While  the  rest  were  laughing  at  this  error,  and  the  other  strange 
opinions  of  the  count,  tlie  harper  led  our  friend  aside,  took  leave  of 
him,  and  begged  with  tears  that  he  would  even  now  let  him  go.  AVil- 
helm  spoke  to  him,  declaring  that  he  would  protect  him  against  all 
the  world,  that  no  one  should  touch  a  hair  of  his  head,  much  less 
send  him  off  against  his  will. 

The  old  man  seemed  affected  deeply  ;  an  unwonted  fire  was  glow- 
ing in  his  eyes.  "  It  is  not  that,"  cried  lie,  "  which  drives  me  away. 
I  have  long  been  reproaching  myself  in  secret  for  staying  with  you. 
I  ouglit  to  linger  nowhere  ;  for  misfortune  flies  to  overtake  me,  and 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  L  157 

injures  all  that  are  connected  with  me.  Dread  everything,  unless 
you  dismiss  me  :  but  ask  me  no  questions  ;  I  belong  not  to  myself  ;  1 
cannot  stay." 

"To  whom  dost  thou  belong?  Who  can  exert  such  a  power  on 
thee  ■>." 

"  Leave  me  my  horrid  secret,  and  let  me  go  !  The  vengeance  \^iiKh 
pursues  me  is  not  of  the  earthly  judge.  I  belong  to  an  inexorable 
destiny  ;  I  cannot  stay,  and  I  dare  not." 

"  In  the  situation  thou  art  now  in,  I  certainly  will  not  let  thee  go." 

"  It  were  high  treason  against  you,  my  benefactor,  if  1  should  delay. 
I  am  secure  while  with  you,  but  you  are  in  peril.  You  know  not 
whom  you  keep  beside  you.  I  am  guilty,  but  more  wretched  than 
guilty.  My  presence  scares  happiness  away  ;  and  good  deeds  grow 
powerless,  when  I  become  concerned  in  them.  Fugitive,  unresting  I 
should  be,  that  my  evil  genius  might  not  seize  me,  which  pursues 
but  at  a  distance,  and  only  appears  when  I  have  found  a  place,  and 
am  laying  down  my  head  to  seek  repose.  More  grateful  I  cannot 
show  myself,  than  by  forsaking  you." 

"  Strange  man  !  Thou  canst  neither  take  away  the  confidence  I 
place  in  thee,  nor  the  hope  I  feel  to  see  thee  happy.  I  wish  not  to 
penetrate  the  secrets  of  thy  superstition.;  but  if  thou  livest  in  belief 
of  wonderful' forebodings  and  entanglements  of  fate,  then,  to  cheer 
and  hearten  thee,  I  say,  unite  thyself  to  my  good  fortune,  and  let  us 
see  which  genius  is  the  stronger,  thy  dark  or  my  bright  one." 

Wilhelm  seized  this  opportunity  of  suggesting  to  him  many  other 
comfortable  things  ;  for  of  late  our  friend  had  begun  to  imagine  that 
this  singular  attendant  of  his  must  be  a  man  who,  by  chance  or  des- 
tiny, had  been  led  into  some  AVeighty  crime,  the  remembrance  of 
which  he  was  ever  bearing  on  his  conscience.  A  few  days  ago,  Wil- 
helm, listening  to  his  singing,  had  observed  attentively  the  following 
lines  : 

For  him  the  light  of  rnddy  mom 

But  paints  the  horizon  red  with  flame  ; 
And  voices,  from  the  depths  of  nature  bornCj 
Woe  I  woe  !  upon  his  guilty  head  proclaim. 

But,  let  the  old  man  urge  what  arguments  he  pleased,  our  friend 
had  constantly  a  stronger  argument  at  hand.  He  turned  everything 
on  its  fairest  side ;  spoke  so  bravely,  heartily  and  cheerily,  that  even 
the  old  man  seemed  again  to  gather  spirits,  and  to  throw  aside  his 
whims. 


im  MEISTER  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Melina  was  in  hopes  to  get  established  with  his  company,  in  a 
small  but  thriving  town  at  some  distance.  They  had  already  reached 
the  place  where  the  count's  horses  were  to  turn  ;  and  now  they  looked 
about  for  other  carriages  and  cattle  to  transport  them  onward.  Melina 
had  engaged  to  provide  them  a  conveyance  ;*he  showed  himself  but 
niggardly,  according  to  his  custom.  Wilhelm,  on  the  contrary,  had 
the  shining  ducats  of  the  count  in  his  pocket,  and  thought  he  had 
the  fullest  riglit  to  spend  them  merrily  ;  forgetting  very  soon  how 
ostentatiously  he  had  produced  them  in  the  stately  balance  transmitted 
to  his  father. 

His  friend  Shakespeare,  whom  with  the  greatest  joy  he  acknowl- 
edged as  his  godfather,  and  rejoiced  the  more  that  his  name  was  Wil- 
helm, had  introduced  him  to  a  prince,  who  frolicked  for  a  time  among 
mean,  nay  vicious  companions,  and  who,  notwithstanding  his  noble- 
ness of  nature,  found  pleasure  in  the  rudeness,  indecency  and  coarse 
intemperance  of  these  altogether  sensual  knaves.  This  ideal  likeness, 
which  he  figured  as  the  type  and  the  excuse  of  his  own  actual  con- 
dition, was  most  welcome  to  our  friend  ;  and  the  process  of  self- 
deception,  to  which  already  he  displayed  an  almost  invincible  tendency, 
was  thereby  very  mucli  facilitated. 

He  now  began  to  think  about  his  dress.  It  struck  him  that  a  waist- 
coat, over  which,  in  case  of  need,  one  could  throw  a  little  short  man- 
tle, was  a  very  fit  thing  for  a  traveler.  Long  knit  pantaloons,  and  a 
pair  of  lacing  boots,  seemed  the  true  garb  of  a  pedestrian.  He  next 
procured  a  fine  silk  sasli,  which  he  tied  about  him,  under  the  pretense 
at  first  of  securing  warmth  for  liis  person.  On  the  oilier  hand,  he  freed 
his  neck  from  the  tyranny  of  stocks  ;  and  got  a  few  stripes  of  muslin 
sewed  upon  his  shirt ;  making  the  pieces  of  considerable  breadth,  so 
that  they  presented  the  complete  appearance  of  an  ancient  ruff.  The 
beautiful  silk  handkerchief,  the  memorial  of  Mariana,  wliich  had 
once  been  saved  from  burning,  now  lay  slackly  tied  beneath  this  mus- 
lin collar.  A  round  hat,  with  a  parti-colored  band,  and  a  large  feather, 
perfected  the  mask. 

The  women  all  asserted  that  this  garb  became  him  very  well. 
Philina  in  particular  appeared  enchanted  with  it.  She  solicited  his 
hair  for  herself  ;  beautiful  locks,  which,  the  closer  to  approach  the 
natural  ideal,  he  had  unmercifully  clipped.  By  so  doing,  she  recom- 
mended herself  not  amiss  to  his  favor  ;  and  our  friend,  who,  by  his 
open-handedness,  had  acquired  the  right  of  treating  his  companions 
somewhat  in  Prince  Harry's  manner,  ere  long  fell  into  tlie  humor  of 
himself  contriving  a  few  wild  tricks,  and  presiding  in  the  execution 
pf  them.     The  people  fenced,  tlu^y  danced,  they  devised  all  kinds  of 


iBOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  II.  •  159 

sports  ;  and  iu  their  gayety  of  heart  partook  of  what  tolerable  wine 
they  could  fall  iu  with,  iu  copious  proportious  ;  while,  amid  the  dis- 
order of  this  tumultuous  life,  Philiua  lay  iu  wait  for  the  coy  hero  ; 
over  whom  let  his  better  geuius  keep  watch  ! 

One  chief  diversion,  which  yielded  the  company  a  frequent  and 
very  pleasing  entertainment,  consisted  in  producing  an  extempore 
play,  in  which  their  late  benefactors  and  patrons  were  mimicked  and 
turned  into  ridicule.  Some  of  our  actors  had  seized  very  neatly  what- 
ever was  peculiar  in  the  outward  manner  of  several  distinguished 
people  in  the  count's  •establishment  ;  their  imitation  of  these  was 
received  by  the  rest  of  the  party  with  the  greatest  approbation  ;  and 
when  Philiua  produced,  from  the  secret  archives  of  her  experience, 
certain  peculiar  declarations  of  love  that  had  been  made  to  her,  the 
audience  were  like  to  die  with  laughing  and  malicious  joy. 

Wilhelm  censured  their  ingratitude  ;  but  they  told  him  in  reply, 
that  these  gentry  well  deserved  what  they  were  getting,  their  general 
conduct  towards  such  deserving  people  as  our  friends  believed  them- 
selves, not  having  been  by  any  means  the  best  imaginable.  The  little 
consideration,  the  neglect  they  had  experienced,  were  now  described 
with  many  aggravations.  The  jesting,  bantering  and  mimicry  pro- 
ceeded as  before  ;  our  party  were  growing  bitterer  and  more  unjust 
every  minute. 

"I  wish,"  observed  Wilhelm,  "  there  was  no  envy  or  selfishness 
lurking  under  what  you  say,  but  that  you  would  regard  those  persons 
and  their  station  in  the  proper  point  of  view.  It  is  a  peculiar  tlung 
to  be  placed,  by  one's  very  birth,  in  an  elevated  situation  in  society. 
The  man  for  whom  inherited  wealth  has  secured  a  perfect  freedom 
of  existence  ;  who  finds  himself  from  his  youth  upwards  abundantly 
encompassed  with  all  the  secondary  essentials,  so  to  speak,  of  human 
life, — will  generally  become  accustomed  to  consider  these  qualiiioa- 
tious  as  the  first  and  greatest  of  all  ;  while  the  worth  of  that  mode  of 
human  life,  which  nature  from  her  own  stores  equips  and  furnishes, 
will  strike  him  more  faintly.  The  behavior  of  noblemen  to  their 
inferiors,  and  likewise  to  each  other,  is  regulated  by  external  prefer-  s^ 
ences  :  they  give  each  credit  for  his  title,  his  rank,  his  clothes  and  A.{«^ 
equipage,  but  his  individual  merits  come  not  into  play." 

The  speech  was  honored  with  the  company's  unbounded  applause. 
They  declared  it  to  be  shameful,  that  men  of  merit  should  constantly 
be  pushed  into  the  background  ;  and  that  in  the  great  world,  there 
should  not  be  a  trace  of  jLatimal  and  hearty  intercourse.  On  this 
latter  point  particularly  they  overshot  all  bounds. 

"  Blame  them  not  for  it,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  rather  pity  them  !  They 
have  seldom  an  exalted  feeling  of  that  happiness  which  we  admit  to 
be  the  highest  that  can  flow  from  the  inward  abundance  of  nature. 
Only  to  us  poor  creatures  is  it  granted  to  enjoy  the  ha]ipiness  of 
friendship,  in  its  richest  fullness.  Those  dear  to  us  we  cannot  elevate 
by  our  countenance,  or  advance  by  our  favor,  or  make  happy  by  our 


160  MEISTER'S  APPiiENflGESmP. 

presents.  We  have  nothing  but  ourselves.  This  whole  self  we  must 
give  away  ;  and  if  it  is  to  be  of  any  value,  we  must  make  our  friend 
secure  of  it  for  ever.  What  an  enjoyment,  what  a  happiness,  for 
giver  and  receiver  !  With  what  blessedness  does  truth  of  affection 
invest  our  situation  !  It  gives  to  the  transitory  life  of  man  a  heavenly 
certainty  ;  it  forms  the  crown  and  capital  of  all  that  we  possess." 

While  he  spoke  thus,  Mignon  had  come  near  him  ;  she  threw  her 
little  arms  round  him,  and  stood  with  her  cheek  resting  on  his  breast. 
He  laid,  his  hand  on  the  child's  head,  and  proceeded  :  "  It  is  easy  for 
a  great  man  to  win  our  minds  to  him  ;  easy  to  make  our  hearts  his 
own.  A  mild  and  pleasant  manner,  a  manner  only  not  inhuman,  will 
of  itself  do  wonders  ;  and  how  many  means  does  he  possess  of  holding 
fast  the  affections  he  has  once  conquered  !  To  tis,  all  this  occurs  less 
frequently,  to  us  it  is  all  more  difficult  ;  and  we  naturally  therefore 
put  a  greater  value  on  whatever,  in  the  way  of  mutual  kindness,  we 
acquire  and  accomplish.  What  touching  examples  of  faithful  ser- 
vants giving  themselves  up  to  danger  and  death  for  their  masters  ! 
How  finely  has  Shakespeare  painted  out  such  things  to  us  !  Fidelity, 
in  this  case,  is  the  effort  of  a  noble  soitI  struggling  to  become  equal 
with  one  exalted  above  it.  By  steadfast  attachment  and  love,  the 
servant  is  made  equal  to  his  lord,  who  but  fortius  is  justified  in  look- 
ing on  him  as  a  hired  slave.  Yes,  these  virtues  belong  to  the  lower 
class  of  men  alone  ;  that  class  cannot  do  without  them,  and  with  them 
it  has  a  beauty  of  its  own.  Whoever  is  enabled  to  requite  all  favors 
easily,  Avill  likewise  easily  be  tempted  to  raise  himself  above  the 
habit  of  acknowledgment.  Nay,  in  this  sense,  I  am  of  opinion,  it 
might  almost  be  maintained,  that  a  great  man  may  possess  friends, 
but  cannot  be  one." 

Mignon  pressed  still  closer  towards  him. 

"  It  may  be  so,"  replied  one  of  the  party  :  "  Ave  do  not  need  their 
friendship,  and  do  not  ask  it.  But  it  were  well  if  they  understood  a 
little  more  about  the  arts  which  they  affect  to  patronize.  When  we 
played  in  the  best  style,  there  was  none  to  mind  us  :  it  was  all  sheer 
partiality.  Any  one  they  chose  to  favor  pleased  ;  and  they  did  not 
choose  to  favor  those  that  merited  to  please.  It  was  intolerable  to 
observe  how  often  silliness  and  mere  stupidity  attracted  notice  and 
applause. " 

"  When  I  abate  from  this,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  what  seemed  to  spring 
from  irony  and  malice,  I  think  we  may  nearly  say,  that  one  fares  in 
art  as  he  does  in  love.  And  after  all,  how  shall  a  fasliionable  man 
of  the  world,  with  his  dissii)ated  habits,  attain  that  intimate  presence 
with  a  special  object,  which  an  artist  must  long  continue  in,  if  he 
would  produce  anything  approaching  to  perfection  ?  a  state  of  feeling 
without  which  it  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  take  such  an  interest, 
as  the  artist  hopes  and  wishes,  in  his  work. 

"  Believe  me,  my  friends,  it  is  with  talents  as  with  virtue  ;  one  must 
love  them  for  their  own  sake,  or  entirely  renounce  them.     And  neither 


■BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  11.  161 

of  them  is  acknowledged  and  rewarded,  except  when  their  possessor 
can  practice  them  unseen,  like  a  dangerous  secret." 

' '  Meanwhile,  until  some  proper  j  udge  discovers  us,  we  may  all  die 
of  hunger,"  cried  a  fellow  in  the  corner.  / 

"Not  quite  inevitably,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "I  have  observedj 
that  so  long  as  one  stirs  and  lives,  one  always  finds  food  and  raiment, 
though  they  be  not  of  the  richest  sort.  And  why  should  we  repine  ?j 
Were  we  not,  altogether  unexpectedly,  and  when  our  prospects  were 
the  very  worst,  taken  kindly  by  the  hand,  and  substantiall,y  enter- 
tained? And  now,  when  we  are  in  want  of  nothing,  does  it  once 
occur  to  us  to  attempt  anything  for  our  improvement ;  or  to  strive, 
though  never  so  faintly,  towards  advancement  in  our  art  ?  We  are 
busied  about  indifferent  matters  ;  and,  like  school-boys,  we  are  cast- 
ing all  aside  that  might  bring  our  lesson  to  our  thoughts. " 

"  In  sad  truth,"  said  Philina,  "  it  is  even  so  !  Let  us  choose  a  play  ; 
we  will  go  through  it  on  the  spot.  Each  of  us  must  do  his  best,  as 
if  he  stood  before  the  largest  audience." 

They  did  not  long  deliberate  ;  a  play  was  fixed  on.  It  was  one  of 
those  which  at  that  time  were  nieeting  great  applause  in  (Termany, 
and  have  now  passed  away.  Some  of  the  party  whistled  a  symphony  ; 
each  speedily  bethought  him  of  his  part  ;  they  commenced  ;  and 
played  all  the  piece  with  the  greatest  attention,  and  really  well  beyond 
expectation.  Mutual  applauses  circulated  ;  our  friends  had  seldom 
been  so  pleasantly  diverted. 

On  finishing,  they  all  felt  exceedingly  contented,  partly  on  account 
of  their  time  being  spent  so  well,  partly  because  each  of  them  experi- 
enced some  degree  of  satisfaction  with  his  own  performance.  Wil- 
helm expressed  himself  copiously  in  their  praise  ;  the  conversation 
grew  cheerful  and  merry. 

"You  would  see,"  cried  our  friend,  "what  advances  we  should 
make,  if  we  continued  this  sort  of  training,  and  ceased  to  confine  our 
attention  to  mere  learning  by  heart,  rehearsing,  and  playing  mechanic- 
ally, as  if  it  were  a  barren  duty,  or  some  handicraft  employment. 
How  different  a  character  do  our  musical  professors  merit  !  What 
interest  they  take  in  their  art  ;  how  correct  are  they  in  the  practicings 
they  undertake  in  common  !  What  pains  they  are  at  in  tuning  their 
instruments  ;  how  exactly  they  observe  time  ;  how  delicately  they 
express  the  strength  and  the  weakness  of  their  tones  !  No  one  there 
thinks  of  gaining  credit  to  himself  by  a  loud  accompaniment  of  the 
solo  of  another.  Each  tries  to  play  in  the  spirit  of  the  composer, 
each  to  express  well  whatever  is  committed  to  him,  be  it  much  or 
little. 

"  Should  not  we  too  go  as  strictly  and  as  ingeniously  to  work,  see- 
ing we  practice  an  art  far  more  delicate  than  that  of  music  ;  seeing 
we  are  called  on  to  express  the  commonest  and  the  strangest  emotions 
of  human  nature,  ^vitll  elegance,  and  so  as  to  delight  ?  Can  anything 
be  more  shocking  than  to  slur  over  our  rehearsal,  and  in  our  acting 
Meister — 6 


103  MEISfER'S  APPRENTICESmP. 

to  depend  on  good  luck,  or  the  capricious  chance  of  the  moment? 
We  ought  to  pla(;e  our  highest  happiness  and  satisfaction  in  mutually 
desiring  to  gain  each  other's  approbation  ;  we  should  even  value  the 
applauses  of  the  puhlic,  only  in  so  far  as  we  have  previously  sanc- 
tioned them  among  ourselves.  Why  is  the  master  of  the  band  more 
secure  about  his  music  than  the  numager  about  his  play?  Because, 
in  the  orchestra,  each  individual  would  feel  ashamed  of  his  mistakes, 
which  offend  the  outward  ear  ;  but  how  seldom  have  I  found  an  actor 
disposed  to  acknowledge  or  feel  ashamed  of  mistakes,  pardonable  or 
the  contrary,  by  which  the  inward  ear  is  so  outrageously  offended  !  I 
could  wish,  for  my  part,  that  our  theater  were  as  narrow  as  the  wire 
of  a  rope-dancer,  that  no  inept  fellow  might  dare  to  venture  on  it  ; 
instead  of  being,  as  it  is,  a  place  where  every  one  discovers  in  himself 
capacity  enough  to  flourish  and  parade." 

The  company  gave  this  apostrophe  a  kind  reception ;  each  being 
convinced  that  the  censure  conveyed  in  it  could  not  apply  to  him, 
after  acting  a  little  while  ago  so  excellently  with  the  rest.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  was  agreed  that  during  this  journey,  and  for  the  future, 
if  they  remained  together,  they  would  regularly  proceed  with  their 
training  in  the  manner  just  adopted.  Only  it  was  thought,  that  as 
this  was  a  thing  of  good  humor  and  free  will,  no  formal  manager 
must  be  allowed  to  have  a  hand  in  it.  Taking  it  for  an  established 
fact,  that  among  good  men,  the  republican  form  of  government  is  the 
best,  they  declared  that  the  post  of  manager  should  go  round  among 
them  ;  he  must  be  chosen  by  universal  suffrage,  and  every  time  have 
a  sort  of  little  senate  joined  in  authority  along  with  him.  So  de- 
lighted did  they  feel  with  this  idea,  that  they  longed  to  put  it  instantly 
in  practice. 

"  I  have  no  objection,"  said  Melina,  "if  you  incline  making  such 
an  experiment  while  we  are  traveling  ;  I  shall  willingly  suspend  my 
own  directorship  until  we  reach  some  settled  place. "  He  was  in  hopes 
of  saving  cash  by  this  arrangement,  and  of  casting  many  small 
expenses  on  the  shoulders  of  the  little  senate  or  of  the  interim  man- 
ager. This  fixed,  they  went  very  earnestly  to  counsel,  how  tlie  form 
of  the  new  commonwealth  might  best  be  adjusted. 

"  'Tis  an  itinerating  kingdom,"  said  Laertes;  "we  shall  at  least 
have  no  quarrels  about  frontiers." 

They  directly  proceeded  to  the  business,  and  elected  Wilhelm  as 
their  first  manager.  The  senate  also  was  appointed,  the  women  hav- 
ing seat  and  vote  in  it  ;  laws  were  propounded,  were  rejected,  were 
agreed  to.  In  such  playing,  the  time  passed  on  unnoticed  ;  and  as 
our  friends  had  spent  it  pleasantly,  they  also  conceived  that  they  had 
really  been  effecting  something  useful  ;  and  by  their  new  constitu- 
tion had  been  opening  a  new  prospect  for  the  stage  of  their  native 
country. 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  III.  163 


CHAPTER  in. 

Seeing  the  company  so  favorably  disposed,  Wilhelm  now  hoped 
he  might  farther  have  it  in  his  power  to  converse  with  them  on  the 
poetic  merit  of  the  pieces  which  might  come  before  them.  "  It  is 
not  enough,"  said  he  next  day,  wlien  they  were  all  again  assembled, 
"  for  the  actor  merely  to  glance  over  a  dramatic  work  to  judge  of  it 
by  his  first  impression,  and  thus,  ^\^thout  investigation,  to  declare  his 
satisfaction  or  dissatisfaction  with  it.  Such  things  may  be  allowed  in 
a  spectator,  whose  purpose  it  is  rather  to  be  entertained  and  moved 
than  formally  to  criticize.  But  the  actor,  on  the  other  hand,  should 
be  prepared  to  give  a  reason  for  his  praise  or  censure  ;  and  how  shall 
he  do  this,  if  he  have  not  taught  himself  to  penetrate  the  sense,  the 
views  and  feelings  of  his  author  ?  A  common  error  is,  to  form  a 
judgment  of  a  drama  from  a  single  part  in  it ;  and  to  look  upon  this 
part  itself  in  an  isolated  point  of  view,  not  in  its  connection  with  the 
whole.  I  have  noticed  this,  within  a  few  days,  so  clearly  in  my  own 
conduct,  that  I  will  give  you  the  account  as  an  example,  if  you  please 
to  hear  me  patiently. 

"You  all  know  Shakespeare's  incomparable  Hamlet;  our  public 
reading  of  it  at  the  castle  yielded  every  one  of  us  the  greatest  satis- 
faction. On  that  occasion  we  proposed  to  act  the  piece  ;  and  I,  not 
knowing  what  I  undertook,  engaged  to  play  the  prince's  part.  This 
I  conceived  that  1  was  studying,  while  I  began  to  get  by  heart  the 
strongest  passages,  the  soliloquies,  and  those  scenes  in  which  force  of 
soul,  vehemence  and  elevation  of  feeling  have  the  freest  scope  ;  where 
the  agitated  heart  is  allowed  to  display  itself  with  touching  expres- 
siveness. 

"  I  farther  conceived  that  I  was  penetrating  quite  into  the  spirit  of 
the  character,  while  1  endeavored,  as  it  were,  to  take  upon  myself  the 
load  of  deep  melancholy  under  which  my  prototype  was  laboring,  and 
in  this  humor  to  pursue  him  through  the  strange  labyrinths  of  his 
caprices  and  his  singularities.  Thus  learning,  thus  practicing,  I 
doubted  not  but  I  should  by  and  by  become  one  person  with  my  hero. 

"  But  the  farther  1  advanced,  the  more  difficult  did  it  become  for  me 
to  form  any  image  of  the  whole,  in  its  general  bearings  ;  till  at  last  it 
seemed  as  if  impossible.  I  next  went  through  the  entire  piece,  with- 
out interruption  ;  but  here,  too,  I  found  much  that  I  could  not  away 
with.  At  one  time  the  characters,  at  another  time  the  manner  of  dis 
playing  them,  seemed  inconsistent ;  and  I  almost  despaired  of  finding 
any  general  tint,  in  which  I  might  present  my  whole  part  with  all  its 
shadings  and  variations.  In  such  devious  paths  I  toiled  and  wandered 
long  in  vain,  till  at  length  a  hope  arose  that  I  might  reach  my  aim  in 
quite  a  new  way. 


164  MEISTER'S  APPEENTICEHIUP. 

"  I  set  about  investigating  every  trace  of  Hamlet's  character,  as  it 
had  shown  itself  befon;  his  father's  death  ;  I  endeavored  to  distinguish 
what  in  it  was  independent  of  this  mournful  event  ;  independent  of 
the  terrible  events  that  followed  ;  and  what  most  probably  the  young 
man  would  have  been,  had  no  such  thing  occurred. 

"  Soft,  and  from  a  noble  stem,  this  royal  flower  had  sprung  up  un- 
der the  immediate  influences  of  majesty  :  the  idea  of  moral  rectitude 
with  that  of  princely  elevation,  the  feeling  of  the  good  and  dignified 
with  the  consciousness  of  high  birth,  had  in  him  been  unfolded  sim- 
ultaneously. He  was  a  prince,  by  birth  a  prince  ;  and  he  wished  to 
reign  only  that  good  men  might  be  good  without  obstruction.  Pleas- 
ing in  form,  polished  by  nature,  courteous  from  the  heart,  he  was 
meant  to  be  the  pattern  of  youth  and  the  joy  of  the  world. 

"  Without  any  prominent  passion,  his  love  for  Ophelia  was  a  still 
presentiment  of  sweet  wants.  His  zeal  in  knightly  accomplishments 
was  not  entirely  his  own  ;  it  needed  to  be  quickened  and  inflamed  by 
praise  bestowed  on  others  for  excelling  in  them.  Pure  in  sentiment, 
he  knew  the  honorable-minded,  and  could  prize  the  rest  which  an  up- 
right spirit  tastes  on  the  bosom  of  a  friend.  To  a  certain  degree,  he 
had  learned  to  discern  and  value  the  good  and  the  beautiful  in  arts 
and  sciences  ;  the  mean,  the  vulgar  was  offensive  to  him  ;  and  if 
hatred  could  take  root  in  his  tender  soul,  it  was  only  so  far  as  to  make 
him  properly  despise  the  false  and  cliangeful  insects  of  a  court,  and 
play  with  them  in  easy  scorn.  He  was  calm  in  his  temper,  artless  in 
his  conduct  ;  neither  pleased  with  idleness,  nor  too  violently  eager 
for  employment.  The  routine  of  a  university  he  seemed  to  continue 
when  at  court.  He  possessed  more  mirth  of  humor  than  of  heart ; 
he  was  a  good  companion,  pliant,  courteous,  discreet,  and  able  to  for- 
get and  forgive  an  injury  ;  yet  never  able  to  unite  himself  with  those 
who  overstept  the  limits  of  the  right,  the  good,  and  the  becoming. 

'•  When  we  read  the  piece  again,  you  shall  judge  whether  I  am  j'et 
on  the  proper  track.  1  hope  at  least  to  bring  forward  passages  that 
sliali  support  my  opinion  in  its  main  points." 

This  delineation  was  received  with  warm  approval  :  the  company 
imagined  they  foresaw  that  Hamlet's  manner  of  proceeding  might 
now  be  very  satisfactorily  explained  ;  they  applauded  this  metliod  of 
penetrating  into  the  spirit  of  a  writer.  Each  of  them  proposed  to 
liimself  to  take  up  some  piece,  and  study  it  on  these  principles,  and 
so  unfold  the  author's  meaning. 


BOOK  JV.  CHAPTER  IV,  1(J5 


CHAPTER  IV, 

Our  friends  liad  to  continue  in  the  place  for  a  day  or  two  ;  and  it 
was  not  long  till  sundry  of  them  got  engaged  in  adventures  of  u 
rather  pleasant  kind.  Laertes  in  particular  was  challenged  by  a 
lady  of  the  neighborhood,  a  person  of  some  property  ;  but  he  received 
her  blandishments  with  extreme,  nay  unhandsome  coldness  ;  and  had 
in  consequence  to  undergo  a  multitude  of  jibes  from  Philina.  She 
took  this  opportunity  of  detailing  to  our  friend  the  hapless  love  story 
which  had  made  the  yoath  so  bitter  a  foe  to  womankind.  "Who 
can  take  it  ill  of  him,"  she  cried,  "  that  he  hates  a  sex  which  has 
played  him  so  foul,  and  given  him  to  swallow,  in  one  stoutly  concen- 
trated potion,  all  the  miseries  that  man  can  fear  from  woman  ?  Do 
but  conceive  it  :  within  four-and-tweuty  hours  he  was  lover,  bride- 
groom, husband,  cuckold,  patient  and  widower  !  I  wot  not  how  you 
could  use  a  man  worse." 

Laertes  hastened  from  the  room  half- vexed,  half-laughing  ;  and 
Philina  in  her  sprightliest  style  began  to  relate  the  story  :  how 
Laertes,  a  young  man  of  eighteen,  on  joining  a  company  of  actors, 
found  in  it  a  girl  of  fourteen  on  the  point  of  departing  with  her 
father,  who  had  quarreled  with  the  manager.  How,  on  the  instant, 
he  had  fallen  mortally  in  love  ;  had  conjured  the  father  by  all  possi- 
ble considerations  to  remain,  promising  at  length  to  marry  the  young 
woman.  How,  after  a  few  pleasing  hours  of  gnjomship,  he  had 
accordingly  been  wedded,  and  been  happy  as  he  ought ;  whereupon, 
next  day,  while  he  was  occupied  at  the  rehearsal,  his  wife,  according 
to  professional  rule,  had  honored  him  with  a  pair  of  horns  ;  and  how 
as  he,  out  of  excessive  tenderness,  hastening  home  far  too  soon,  had, 
alas,  found  a  former  lover  in  his  place,  he  had  struck  into  the  affair 
with  thoughtless  indignation,  had  called  out  both  father  and  lover, 
and  sustained  a  grievous  wound  in  the  duel.  How  father  and  daugh- 
ter had  thereupon  set  off  by  night,  leaving  him  behind  to  labor  with 
a  double  hurt.  How  the  leech  he  applied  to  was  unliappily  the  worst 
in  nature  ;  and  the  poor  fellow  had  got  out  of  the  adventure  with 
blackened  teeth  and  watering  eyes.  That  he  was  greatly  to  be  pitied, 
being  otherwise  the  bravest  young  man  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
"Especially,"  said  she,  "it  grieves  me  that  the  poor  soul  now  hates 
women  ;  for,  hating  women,  how  can  one  keep  living  ?" 

Melina  interrupted  them  with  news,  that  all  things  being  now  ready 
for  the  journey,  they  would  set  out  to-morrow  morning.  He  handed 
them  a  plan,  arranging  how  they  were  to  travel. 

"  If  any  good  friend  take  me  on  his  lap,"  said  Philina,  "  I  shall  be 
content,  though  we  sit  crammed  together  never  so  close  and  sorrily  : 
'tis  all  one  to  me." 


166  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  It  does  not  signify,"  observed  Laertes,  who  now  entered. 

"  It  is  pitiful,"  said  Wilhelm,  hastening  away.  By  the  aid  of 
money  he  secured  another  very  comfortable  coach,  though  Melina  had 
pretended  that  there  were  no  more.  A  new  distribution  then  took 
place  ;  and  our  friends  were  rejoicing  in  the  thought  that  they  should 
now  travel  pleasantly,  when  intelligence  arrived  that  a  party  of  mili- 
tary volunteers  had  been  seen  upon  the  road,  from  whom  little  good 
could  be  expected. 

In  the  town,  these  tidings  were  received  with  great  attention, 
though  they  were  but  variable  and  ambiguous.  As  the  contending 
armies  were  at  that  time  placed,  it  seemed  impossible  that  any  hostile 
corps  could  have  advanced,  or  any  friendly  one  hung  arear,  so  far. 
Yet  every  man  was  eager^to  exhibit  to  our  travelers  the  danger  that 
awaited  them  as  truly  dangerous  ;  every  man  was  eager  to  suggest 
that  some  other  route  might  be  adopted. 

By  these  means,  most  of  our  friends  had  been  seized  with  anxiety 
and  fear ;  and  when,  according  to  the  new  republican  constitution, 
the  whole  members  of  the  state  had  been  called  together  to  take 
counsel  on  this  extraordinary  case,  they  were  almost  unanimously  of 
opinion  that  it  would  be  proper  either  to  keep  back  the  mischief  by 
abiding  where  they  were,  or  to  evade  it  by  choosing  another  road. 

Wilhelm  alone,  not  participating  in  the  panic,  regarded  it  as  mean 
to  abandon,  for  the  sake  of  mere  rumors,  a  plan  which  they  had  not 
entered  on  without  nauch  thought.  He  endeavored  to  put  heart  into 
them  ;  his  reasons  were  manly  and  convincing. 

"  It  is  but  a  rumor,"  he  observed  ;  "and  how  many  such  arise  in 
time  of  war  1  Well-informed  people  say  that  the  occurrence  is  exceed- 
ingly improbable,  nay  almost  impossible.  Shall  we,  in  so  important 
a  matter,  allow  a  vague  report  to  determine  our  proceedings  ?  The 
route  pointed  out  to  us  by  the  count,  and  to  which  our  passport  was 
adapted,  is  the  shortest  and  in  the  best  condition.  It  leads  us  to  the 
town,  where  you  see  acquaintances,  friends  before  you,  and  may  hope 
for  a  good  reception.  The  other  way  will  also  bring  us  thither  ;  but 
by  what  a  circuit,  and  along  what  miserable  roads  ?  Have  we  any 
right  to  hope,  that,  in  this  late  season  of  the  year,  we  shall  get  on  at 
all ;  and  what  time  and  money  shall  we  squander  in  the  meanwhile  ! " 
He  added  many  more  considerations,  presenting  the  matter  on  so  many 
advantageous  sides,  that  their  fear  began  to  dissipate,  and  their  cour- 
age to  increase.  He  talked  to  them  so  much  about  the  discipline  of 
regular  troops,  he  painted  the  marauders  and  wandering  rabble  so 
contemptuously,  and  represented  the  danger  itself  as  so  pleasant  and 
inspiring,  that  the  spirits  of  the  party  were  altogether  cheered. 

Laertes  from  the  first  had  been  of  his  opinion  ;  he  now  declared 
that  he  would  not  Minch  or  fail.  Old  Boisterous  found  a  consenting 
phrase  or  two  to  utter,  in  his  own  vein  ;  Philina  laughed  at  them  all  ; 
and  Madam  Melina,  who,  notwithstanding  her  advanced  state  of  preg- 
nancy, had  lost  nothing  of  her  natural   stout-heaxtedness,  regarded 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  TV.  167 

the  proposal  as  heoric.  Herr  Melina,  moved  by  this  harmonious  feel- 
ing, hoping  also  to  save  somewhat  by  traveling  the  short  road  whicli 
had  been  first  contemplated,  did  not  withstand  the  general  consent  ; 
and  the  project  was  agreed  to  with  universal  alacrity. 

They  next  began  to  make  some  preparations  for  defense  at  all  haz- 
ards. They  bought  large  hangers,  and  slung  them  in  well-quilted 
straps  over  their  shoulders.  Wilhelm,  farther,  stuck  a  pair  of  pistols 
in  his  girdle.  Laertes,  independently  of  this  occurrence,  had  a  good 
gun.     They  all  took  the  road  in  the  highest  glee. 

On  the  second  day  of  their  journey,  the  drivers  who  knew  the 
country  well,  proposed  to  take  their  noon's  rest  in  a  certain  woody 
spot  of  the  hills  :  since  the  town  was  far  off,  and  in  good  weather 
the  hill  road  was  generally  preferred. 

The  day  being  beautiful,  all  easily  agrged  to  the  proposal.  Wil- 
helm on  foot  went  on  before  them  through  the  hills  ;  making  every 
one  that  met  him  stare  with  astonishment  at  his  singular  figure.  He 
hastened  with  quick  and  contented  steps  across  the  forest  :  Laertes 
walked  whistling  after  him  :  none  but  the  women  continued  to  be 
dragged  along  in  the  carriages.  Mignon  too  ran  forward  by  his  side, 
proud  of  the  hanger,  which,  when  the  party  were  all  arming,  she 
would  not  go  without.  Around  her  hat  she  had  bound  the  pearl 
necklace,  one  of  Mariana's  relics,  which  ^Vilh^'Im  still  possessed. 
Friedrich,  the  fair-haired  boy,  carried  Laertes's  gun.  The  harper  had 
the  most  pacific  look  ;  his  long  cloak  was  tucked  up  within  his  girdle, 
to  let  him  walk  more  freely  ;  he  leaned  upon  a  knotty  staff ;  his  harp 
had  been  left  behind  hina  in  the  carriage. 

Immediately  on  reaching  the  sun-nnit  of  the  height,  a  task  not  with- 
out its  difficulties,  our  party  recognized  the  appointed  spot,  by  the 
fine  beech-trees  which  encircled  and  screened  it.  A  spacious  green, 
sloping  softly  in  the  middle  of  the  forest,  invited  one  to  tarry  ;  a 
trimly-bordered  well  offered  tlie  most  grateful  refreshment  ;  and  on 
the  farther  side,  through  chasms  in  the  mountains,  and  over  the  tops 
of  the  woods  appeared  a  landscape  distant,  level}',  full  of  hope.  Ham- 
lets and  mills  were  lying  in  the  bottoms  villages  upon  the  plain  ;  and 
a  new  chain  of  mountains,  visible  in  the  distance,  made  the  prospect 
still  more  significant  of  hope,  for  they  entered  only  like  a  soft  limi- 
tation. 

The  first  comers  took  possession  of  the  place  ;  rested  a  while  in 
shade,  lighted  a  fire,  and  so  awaited,  singing  as  they  worked,  the 
remainder  of  the  party  ;  who  by  degrees  arrived,  and  with  one 
accord  saluted  the  place,  tlie  lovely  weather,  and  the  still  lovelier 
scene. 


168  MEISTER  'S  APPEENTIGESHIP. 


CHAPTER  V. 

If  our  friends  had  frequently  enjoyed  a  good  and  merry  hour 
together  while  within  four  walls,  they  were  naturally  much  gayer 
here,  where  the  freedom  of  the  sky  and  the  beauty  of  the  place 
seemed  as  it  were  to  purify  the  feelings  of  every  one.  All  felt  nearer 
to  each  other  ;  all  wished  that  they  might  pass  their  whole  lives  in  so 
pleasant  an  abode.  They  envied  hunters,  charcoal-men  and  wood- 
cutters ;  ])eople  whom  their  calling  constantly  retains  in  such  happy 
places  ;  but,  above  all,  they  prized  the  delicious  economy  of  a  band 
of  gipsies.  They  envied. these  wonderful  companions,  entitled  to 
enjoy  in  blissful  idleness  all  the  adventurous  charms  of  nature  ;  they 
rejoiced  at  being  in  some  degree  like  them. 

Meanwhile  the  women  had  begun  to  boil  potatoes  ;  and  to  unwrap 
and  get  ready  the  victuals  brought  along  with  them.  Some  pots  were 
standing  by  the  fire.  The  party  had  placed  themselves  in  groups, 
under  the  trees  and  bushes.  Their  singular  apparel,  their  various 
weapons,  gave  them  a  foreign  aspect.  The  horses  were  eating  their 
provonder  at  a  side.  Could  one  have  concealed  the  coaches,  the  look 
of  this  little  horde  would  have  been  romantic,  even  to  complete 
illusion. 

Wilhelm  enjoyed  a  pleasure  he  had  never  felt  before.  He  could 
now  imagine  his  present  company  to  be  a  wandering  colony,  and  him- 
self the  leader  of  it.  In  this  character  he  talked  with  those  arouud 
him,  and  figured  out  the  fantasy  of  the  jnoment  as  poetically  as  he 
could.  The  feelings  of  the  party  rose  in  clieerfuluess  :  they  ate  and 
drank  and  made  merry  ;  and  repeatedly  declared,  that  they  had  never 
passed  more  pleasant  moments. 

Their  contentment  had  not  long  gone  on  increasing,  till  activity 
awoke  among  the  younger  part  of  them.  Wilhelm  and  Laertes 
seized  their  rapiers,  and  began  to  practice,  on  this  occasion  with 
theatrical  intentions.  They  undertook  to  represent  the  duel,  in  which 
Hamlet  and  his  adversary  find  so  tragical  an  end.  Both  were  per- 
suaded that,  in  this  powerful  scene,  it  was  not  enough  merely  to  keep 
pushing  awkwardly  hither  and  thither,  as  it  is  generally  exhibited  in 
theaters  ;  they  were  in  hopes  to  shoM',  by  example,  how,  in  present- 
ing it,  a  worthy  spectacle  might  also  be  afforded  to  the  critic  in  the 
art  of  fencing.  The  rest  made  a  circle  round  them.  Both  fought 
with  skill  and  ardor.  The  interest  of  the  spectators  rose  higher  every 
pass. 

But  all  at  once,  in  the  nearest  bush,  a  shot  went  oflE ;  and  immedi- 
ately another  ;  and  tlie  party  flew  asunder  in  terror.  Next  moment, 
armed  men  were  to  be  seen  pressing  forward  to  the  sjwt  where  the 
horses  were  eating  their  fodder,  not  far  from  the  ("oaches  tliat  were 
packed  with  luggage. 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  V.  169 

A  universal  scream  proceeded  from  the  females  ;  our  heroes  threw 
away  their  rapiers,  seized  their  pistols,  and  ran  towards  the  robbers  ; 
demanding,  with  violent  threats,  the  meaning  of  such  conduct. 

This  question  being  answered  laconically,  with  a  couple  of  musket- 
shots,  Wilhelm  fired  liis  pistol  at  a  crisp-headed  knave,  who  had  got 
upon  the  top  of  the  coach,  and  was  cutting  the  cords  of  the  package. 
Eightly  hit,  this  artist  instantly  came  tumbling  down  :  Laertes  also 
had  not  missed.  Both  of  them,  encouraged  by  success,  drew  their 
side-arms  ;  when  a  number  of  the  plundering  party  rushed  out  upon 
them,  with  curses  and  loud  bellowing  ;  fired  a  few  shots  at  them, 
and  fronted  tlieir  impetuosity  with  glittering  sabers.  Our  young- 
heroes  made  a  bold  resistance.  They  called  upon  their  other  com- 
rades, and  endeavoi'ed  to  excite  them  to  a  general  resistance.  But 
ere  long,  Wilhelm  lost  the  sight  of  day,  and  the  consciousness  of  what 
■was  passing.  Stupefied  by  a  shot  that  wounded  him  between  the 
breast  and  the  left  arm,  by  a  stroke  that  split  his  hat  in  two,  and 
almost  penetrated  to  his  brain,  he  sank  down,  and  only  by  the  narra- 
tives of  others  came  afterwards  to  understand  the  luckless  end  of 
this  adventure. 

On  again  opening  his  eyes,  he  found  himself  in  the  strangest  pos- 
ture. The  first  thing  that  pierced  the  dimness,  which  yet  swam  before 
his  vision,  was  Philina's  face  bent  down  over  his.  He  felt  himself 
weak  ;  and  making  a  movement  to  rise,  he  discovered  that  he  was  in 
Philina's  lai> ;  into  which,  indeed,  he  again  sank  down.  She  was 
sitting  on  the  sward.  She  had  softly  pressed  towards  her  the  head 
of  the  fallen  young  man  ;  and  made  for  him  an  easy  couch,  as  far  as 
in  her  power.  Mignon  was  kneeling  with  disheveled  and  bloody 
hair  at  his  feet,  which  she  embraced  with  many  tears. 

On  noticing  his  bloody  clothes,  Wilhelm  asked,  in  a  broken  voice, 
where  he  was,  and  what  had  happened  to  him.self  and  the  rest. 
Philina  begged  him  to  be  quiet  :  the  others,  she  said,  were  all  in 
safety,  and  none  but  he  and  Laertes  wounded.  Farther,  she  would 
tell  him  nothing  ;  but  earnestly  entreated  him  to  keep  still,  as  his 
wounds  had  been  but  slightly  and  hastily  bound.  He  stretched  out 
his  hand  to  Mignon,  and  inquired  about  the  bloody  locks  of  the  child, 
who  he  supposed  was  also  wounded. 

For  the  sake  of  (quietness,  Philina  let  him  know  that  this  true- 
hearted  creature,  seeing  her  friend  wounded,  and  in  the  hurry  of  the 
instant  being  able  to  think  of  nothing  which  would  stanch  the  blood, 
had  taken  her  own  hair  that  was  flowing  round  her  head,  and  tried  to 
stop  the  wounds  with  it  ;  but  had  soon  been  obliged  to  give  up  the 
vain  attempt  :  that  afterwards  they  had  bound  him  with  moss  and 
dry  mush-rooms,  Philina  herself  giving  up  her  neckerchief  for  that 
purpose. 

Wilhelm  noticed  that  Philina  was  sitting  with  her  back  against  her 
own  trunk,  which  still  loolvedfirmh'  locked  and  quite  uninjured.  He 
inquired  if  the  rest  also  had  been  so  lucky  as  to  save  their  goods  'i 


170  MEISTEE\S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

She  answered  \%'ith  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and  a  look  over  the 
green,  where  broken  chests,  and  coffers  beaten  into  fragments,  and 
knapsacks  ripped  up,  and  a  multitude  of  little  wares,  lay  scattered  all 
round.  No  person  now  was  to  be  seen  upon  the  place  :  this  strange 
group  formed  the  only  living  object  in  the  solitude. 

Inquiring  farther,  our  friend  learned  more  and  more  particulars. 
The  rest  of  the  men,  it  appeared,  who  at  all  events  might  still  have 
made  resistance,  ^vere  struck  with  terror,  and  soon  overpowered. 
Some  fled,  some  looked  with  horror  at  the  accident.  The  drivers,  for 
the  sake  of  their  cattle,  had  held  out  more  obstinately  ;  but  they  too 
were  at  last  thrown  down  and  tied  ;  after  which,  in  a  few  minutes, 
everything  was  thoroughly  ransacked,  and  the  booty  carried  off.  The 
hapless  travelers,  their  fear  of  death  being  over,  had  begun  to  mourn 
their  loss  ;  and  hastened  with  the  greatest  speed  to  the  neighboring 
village,  taking  with  them  Laertes,  whose  wounds  were  slight,  and 
carrying  off  but  a  very  few  fragments  of  their  property.  The  harper 
having  placed  his  damaged  instrument  against  a  tree,  had  proceeded 
in  their  company  to  the  place  ;  to  seek  a  surgeon,  and  return  with  his 
utmost  rapidity  to  help  his  benefactor,  whom  he  had  left  apparently 
upon  the  brink  of  death. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 


Meanwhile  our  three  adventurers  continued  yet  a  space  in  their 
strange  position,  no  one  returning  to  their  aid.  Evening  was  advanc- 
ing ;  the  darkness  threatened  to  come  on.  Philina's  indifference  was 
changing  to  anxiety  ;  Mignon  ran  to  and  fro,  her  impatience  increas- 
ing every  moment ;  and  at  last,  when  their  prayer  was  granted,  and 
human  creatures  did  approach,  a  new  alarm  fell  upon  them.  They 
distinctly  heard  a  troop  of  horses  coming  iip  the  road,  which  they  had 
lately  traveled  ;  they  dreaded  lest,  a  second  time,  some  company  of 
unbidden  guests  might  be  purposing  to  visit  this  scene  of  battle,  and 
gather  up  the  gleanings. 

The  more  agreeable  was  their  surprise,  when,  after  a  few  moments, 
a  young  lady  issued  from  the  thickets,  riding  on  a  gray  courser,  and 
accompanied  by  an  elderly  gentleman  and  some  cavaliers.  Grooms, 
servants,  and  a  troop  of  hussars  closed  up  the  rear. 

Philina  stared  at  this  phenomenon,  and  was  about  to  call,  and 
entreat  the  fair  Amazon  for  help,  when  the  latter,  turning  her  aston- 
ished eyes  on  the  group,  instantly  checked  her  horse,  rode  uji  to  them, 
and  halted.  She  inquired  eagerly  about  the  wounded  man,  whose 
posture  in  the  lap  of  this  light-minded  Samaritan  seemed  to  strike  her 
as  peculiarly  strange. 

"Is  it  your  husband?"  she  inquired  of  Philina.  "  Only  a  good 
friend,"  replied  the  other,  -with  a  tone  that  Wilhekn  liked  extremely 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  VI.  171 

ill.  He  had  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  soft,  elevated,  calm,  sympathiz- 
ing features  of  the  stranger  ;  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  aught 
nobler  or  more  lovely.  Her  shape  he  could  not  see  :  it  was  hid  by  a 
man's  white  great-coat,  which  she  seemed  to  have  borrowed  from  some 
of  her  attendants,  to  screen  her  from  the  chill  evening  air. 

By  this,  the  horsemen  had  also  come  near.  Some  of  them  dis- 
mounted ;  the  lady  did  so  likewise.  She  asked,  with  humane  sym- 
pathy, concerning  every  circumstance  of  the  mishap  which  had 
befallen  the  travelers  ;  but  especially  concerning  the  wounds  of  the 
poor  youth  who  lay  before  her.  Thereupon  she  turned  quickly  round, 
and  went  aside  with  the  old  gentleman  to  some  carriages  which  were 
slowly  coming  up  the  hill,  and  which  at  length  stopped  upon  the  scene 
of  action. 

The  young  lady  having  stood  with  her  conductor  a  short  time  at  the 
door  of  one  of  the  coaches,  and  talked  with  the  people  in  it,  a  man  of 
a  squat  figure  stepped  out,  and  came  along  with  them  to  our  wounded 
hero.  By  the  little  box  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  the  leathern 
pouch  with  instruments  in  it,  you  soon  recognized  him  for  a  surgeon. 
His  manners  were  rude  rather  than  attractive  ;  but  his  hand  was 
light  and  his  help  was  welcome. 

Having  examined  strictly,  he  declared  that  none  of  the  wounds  were 
dangerous.  He  would  dress  them,  he  said,  on  the  spot,  after  which 
the  patient  might  be  carried  to  the  nearest  village. 

The  anxious  attentions  of  the  young  lady  seemed  to  avigment.  "  Do 
but  look,"  she  said,  after  going  to  and  fro  once  or  tMaee,  and  again 
bringing  the  old  gentleman  to  the  place  ;  "  look  how  they  have  treated 
him  ?  And  is  it  not  on  our  account  that  he  is  suffering  ?  "  Wilhelm 
heard  these  words,  but  did  not  understand  them.  She  went  restlessly 
up  and  down  :  it  seemed  as  if  she  could  not  tear  herself  away  from 
the  presence  of  the  wounded  man,  while  at  the  same  time  she  feared 
to  violate  decorum  by  remaining,  when  they  had  begun,  though  not 
without  difficulty,  to  remove  some  part  of  his  apparel.  The  surgeon 
was  just  cutting  off  the  left  sleeve  of  his  patient's  coat,  when  the  old 
gentleman  came  near,  and  represented  to  the  lady,  in  a  serious  tone, 
the  necessity  of  proceeding  on  their  journey.  Wilhelm  kept  his  eyes 
bent  on  her  ;  and  was  so  enchanted  with  her  looks,  that  he  scarcely 
felt  what  h&  was  suffering  or  doing. 

Philina,  in  the  meantime,  had  risen  up  to  kiss  the  hand  of  this  kind 
young  lady.  While  they  stood  beside  each  other,  \^'ilhelm  thought 
he  had  never  seen  such  a  contrast.  Philina  had  never  till  now 
appeared  in  so  unfavorable  a  light.  She  had  no  right,  as  it  seemed 
to  him,  to  come  near  that  noble  creature,  still  less  to  touch  her. 

The  lady  asked  Philina  various  things,  but  in  an  undertone.  At 
length  she  turned  to  the  old  gentleman  and  said,  "Dear  uncle,  may  I 
be  generous  at  your  expense  ?  "  She  took  off  the  great-coat,  with  the 
visible  intention  to  give  it  to  the  stripped  and  wounded  youth. 

Wilhelm,  whom  the  healing  look  of  her  eyes  had  hitherto  held 


17^  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICE8BIP. 

fixed,  was  now,  as  the  siirtont  fell  away,  astonished  at  her  lovely 
figure.  She  came  near,  and  softly  laid  the  coat  above  him.  At  this 
moment,  as  he  tried  to  open  his  mouth  and  stammer  out  some  words 
of  gratitude,  the  lively  imjiression  of  her  presence  worked  so  strongly 
on  his  senses,  already  caught  and  bewildered,  that  all  at  once  it 
appeared  to  him  as  if  her  head  were  encircled  with  rays  ;  and  a  glanc- 
ing light  seemed  by  degrees  to  spread  itself  over  all  her  form  At  this 
moment  the  surgeon,  making  preparations  to  extract  the  ball  from  his 
wound,  gave  him  a  sharper  twinge  :  the  angel  faded  away  from  the 
eyes  of  the  fainting  patient ;  he  lost  all  consciousness  ;  and  on  return- 
ing to  himself,  the  horsemen  and  coaches^  the  fair  one  with  her 
attendants,  had  vanished  like  a  dream. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Wilhelm's  wounds  once  dressed,  and  his  clothes  put  on,  the  sur- 
geon hastened  off;  just  as  the  harper  with  a  number  of  peasants 
arrived.  Out  of  some  cut  boughs,  which  they  speedily  wattled  with 
twigs,  a  kind  of  litter  was  constructed  ;  upon  which  they  placed  the 
wounded  youth,  and  under  the  conduct  of  a  mounted  huntsman, 
whom  the  noble  company  had  left  behind  them,  carried  him  softly 
down  the  mountain.  The  harper,  silent  and  shrouded  in  his  own 
thoughts,  bore  with  him  his  broken  instrument.  Some  men  brought 
on  Philina's  box,  herself  following  with  a  bundle.  Mignon  skipped 
along  through  copse  and  thicket,  now  before  the  party,  now  beside 
them,  and  looked  up  with  longing  eyes  at  her  hurt  protector. 

He,  meanwhile,  wrapped  in  his  warm  surtout,  was  lying  peacefully 
upon  the  litter.  An  electric  warmth  seemed  to  flow  from  the  fine 
wool  into  his  body  :  in  short,  he  felt  himself  in  the  most  delightful 
frame  of  mind.  The  lovely  being,  whom  this  garment  lately  covered, 
had  affected  him  to  the  very  heart.  He  still  saw  the  coat  falling 
down  from  her  shoulders  ;  saw  that  noble  form,  begirt  A\ith  radiance, 
stand  beside  him  ;  and  his  soul  hied  over  rocks  and  forests  on  the 
footsteps  of  his  vanished  benefactress. 

It  was  nightfall  when  the  party  reached  the  village,  and  halted  at 
the  door  of  the  inn  where  the  rest  of  the  company,  in  the  gloom  of 
despondency,  were  bewailing  their  irreparrflile  loss.  The  one  little 
chamber  of  the  house  Avas  crammed  with  people.  Some  of  them 
were  lying  upon  straw  ;  some  were  occupying  benches  ;  some  had 
squeezed  themselves  behind  the  stove.  Fran  Melina,  in  a  neighbor- 
ing room,  was  painfully  expecting  her  delivery.  Fright  had  accel- 
erated this  event.  With  the  sole  assistance  of  the  landlady,  a  young 
inexperienced  woman,  nothing  good  could  be  expected. 

As  the  party  just  arrived  required  admission,  there  arose  a  xiuiversal 


nOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  VIlI.  VIZ 

lUlirmur.  AH  now  maintained,  that  by  Willielm's  advice  alone,  and 
undei  his  especial  guidance,  they  had  entered  on  this  dangerous  road, 
and  exposed  themselves  to  such  misfortunes.  They  threw  the  blame 
of  the  disaster  wholly  on  him  ;  they  stuck  themselves  in  the  door  to 
oppose  his  entrance,  declaring  that  he  must  go  elsewhere  and  seek 
quarters.  Philina  they  received  with  still  greater  indignation  :  nor 
did  Mignon  and  the  harper  escape  their  share. 

The  huntsman,  to  whom  the  care  of  the  forsaken  party  had  been 
earnestly  and  strictly  recommended  by  his  beautiful  mistress,  soon 
grew  tired  of  this  discussion  :  he  rushed  upon  the  company  with  oatlis 
and  menaces  ;  commanding  them  to  fall  to  the  right  and  left,  and 
make  way  for  tliis  new  arrival.  They  now  began  to  pacify  them- 
selves. He  made  a  place  for  Wilhelm  on  a  table,  which  he  shoved 
into  a  corner  ;  PhJlina  had  her  box  put  there,  and  then  sat  down  upon 
it.  All  packed  themselves  as  they  best  could  ;  and  the  huntsman 
went  away  to  see  if  he  could  not  find  for  "  the  young  couple"  a  more 
convenient  lodging. 

Scarcely  was  he  gone,  when  spite  again  grew  noisy,  and  one 
reproach  began  to  follow  close  upon  another.  Each  described  and 
magnified  his  loss  ;  censuring  the  foolhardiness  they  had  so  keenly 
smarted  for.  They  did  not  even  hide  the  malicious  satisfaction  they 
felt  at  Wilhelm's  wounds  :  they  jeered  Philina,  and  imputed  to  her 
as  a  crime  the  means  by  which  she  had  saved  her  trunk.  From  a 
multitude  of  jibes  and  bitter  inuendoes  you  were  required  to  conclude, 
that  during  the  plundering  and  discomfiture  she  had  endeavored  to 
work  herself  into  favor  with  the  captain  of  the  band,  and  had  per- 
suaded him.  Heaven  knew  by  what  arts  and  complaisance,  to  give 
her  back  the  chest  unhurt.  To  all  this  she  answered  nothing  ;  only 
clanked  with  the  large  padlocks  of  her  box,  to  impress  her  ceusurers 
completely  with  its  presence,  and  by  her  own  good  fortune  to  aug- 
ment their  desperation. 


CHAPTER  Vni. 


Though  our-friend  was  weak  from  loss  of  blood,  and  though  ever 
since  the  appearance  of  that  helpful  angel  his  feelings  had  been  soft 
and  mild,  yet  at  last  he  could  not  help  getting  vexed  at  the  harsh  and 
unjust  speeches  which,  as  he  continued  silent,  the  discontented  com- 
pany  went  on  uttering  against  him.  Feeling  himself  strong  enough 
to  sit  up,  and  expostulate  on  the  annoyance  they  were  causing  to  their 
friend  and  leader,  he  raised  his  bandaged  head,  and  propping  himself 
with  some  difficulty,  and  leaning  against  the  wall,  he  began  to  speak 
as  follows  : 

"Considering  the  pain  which  your  losses  occasion,  I  forgive  you 
for  assailing  me  with  injuries  at  a  moment  when  you  should  condole 


1 74  MEISTER  '8  A  PPREIfTTC'ESHIP. 

with  me  ;  for  opposing  me  and  casting  me  from  you,  the  first  time  I 
have  needed  to  look  to  you  for  help.  The  services  1  did  you,  the 
complaisance  I  showed  you,  I  regarded  as  sufficiently  repaid  by  your 
thanks,  by  your  friendly  conduct  :  do  not  warp  my  thoughts,  do  not 
force  my  heart  to  go  back  and  calculate  what  I  have  done  for  you  ; 
the  calculation  would  be  painful  to  me.  C'hance  brought  me  near 
you,  circumstances  and  a  secret  inclination  kept  me  with  you.  I  par- 
ticipated in  your  labors  and  your  pleasures  :  my  slender  abilities  were 
ever  at  your  service.  If  you  now  blame  me  with  bitterness  for  the 
mishap  that  has  befallen  us,  you  do  not  recollect  that  the  first  project 
of  taking  this  road  came  to  us  from  stranger  people,  was  tried  by  all 
of  you,  and  sanctioned  by  every  one  as  well  as  me. 

"  Had  our  journey  ended  happily,  each  would  have  taken  credit  to 
himself  for  the  happy  thought  of  suggesting  this  plan  and  preferring 
it  to  others  ;  each  would  joyfully  have  put  lis  in  mind  of  our  delibera- 
tions and  the  vote  he  gave  :  but  now  you  make  me  alone  responsible  ; 
you  force  a  piece  of  blame  upon  me,  which  I  wpuld  willingly  submit 
to,  if  my  conscience  with  a  clear  voice  did  not  pronounce  me  innocent, 
nay  if  I  might  not  appeal  with  safety  even  to  yourselves.  If  you 
have  aught  to  say  against  me,  bring  it  forward  in  order,  and  I  shall 
defend  myself  ;  if  you  have  nothing  reasonable  to  allege,  then  be 
silent,  and  do  not  torment  me  now  when  I  have  such  pressing  need 
of  rest." 

By  way  of  answer,  the  girls  once  more  began  whimpering  and 
whining,  and  describing  their  losses  circumstantially.  Melina  was 
quite  beside  himself  :  for  he  had  suffered  more  in  purse  than  any  of 
them  ;  more  indeed  than  we  can  rightly  estimate.  He  stamped  like  a 
madman  up  and  down  the  little  room,  he  knocked  his  head  against 
the  wall,  he  swore  and  scolded  in  the  most  unseemly  nianner  ; 
and  the  landlady  entering  at  this  very  time  with  news,  that  hLs  wife 
had  been  delivered  of  a  dead  child,  he  yielded  to  the  most  furious 
ebullitions,  while  in  accordance  with  him  all  howled  and  shrieked  and 
bellowed  and  uproared  with  double  vigor. 

Wilhelm,  touched  to  the  heart  at  once  with  sympathy  in  their  sor- 
rows, and  with  vexation  at  their  mean  way  of  thinking,  felt  all  the 
vigor  of  his  soul  awakened,  notwithstanding  the  weakness  of  his 
body.  "Deplorable  as  your  case  may  be,"  exclaimed  he,  "I  shall 
almost  be  compelled  to  despise  you.  No  misfortune  gives  us  right  to 
load  an  innocent  man  with  reproaches.  If  I  had  share  in  this  false 
step,  am  not  I  suffering  my  share  ?  I  lie  wounded  here  ;  and  if  the 
company  has  come  to  logs,  I  myself  have  come  to  most.  The  ward- 
robe of  which  we  have  been  robbed,  the  decorations  that  are  gone, 
were  mine  ;  for  you,  Herr  Melina,  have  not  yet  paid  me,  and  1  here 
fully  acquit  you  of  all  obligation  in  that  matter." 

"  It  is  well  to  give  what  none  of  us  will  ever  see  again,"  replied 
Melina.  "Your  money  was  lying  in  my  wife's  coffer,  and  it  is  your 
own  blame  that  yow  have  lost  it.     But  ah  1  if  that  were  all  ! " — And 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER   VI 11.  175 

thereupon  he  began  anew  to  stamp  and  scold  and  squeal.  Every  one 
recalled  lo  memory  the  superb  clothes  from  the  count's  wardrobe  ;  the 
buckles,  watches,  snuff  boxes,  hats,  for  which  Melina  had  so  happily 
transacted  with  the  head  valet.  Each  then  thought  also  of  his  own, 
though  far  inferior  treasures.  They  looked  with  spleen  at  Philina's 
box  :  and  gave  Wilhelm  to  understand,  that  he  had  indeed  done  wisely 
to  connect  himself  with  that  fair  personage,  and  to  save  his  own 
goods  also,  under  the  shadow  of  her  fortune. 

"Do  you  think,"  he  exclaimed  at  last,  "that  I  shall  keep  anything 
apart  while  Nini  are  starving  '!  And  is  this  the  first  time  I  have  hon- 
estly shared  with  ycni  in  a  season  of  need  ?  Open  the  trunk  :  all  that 
is  mine  sliall  go  to  supply  the  common  wants." 

"  It  is  mp  trunk,"  observed  Philina,  "  and  I  will  not  open  it  till  I 
please.  Yoiir  rag  or  two  of  clothes,  which  I  have  saved  for  you, 
could  amount  to  Irttle,  though  they  were  sold  to  the  most  conscien 
tious  of  Jews.  Think  of  yourself  ;  what  your  cure  will  cost,  what 
may  befall  ycni  in  a  strange  country." 

"You,  Philina,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "will  keep  back  from  me 
nothing  that  is  mine  ;  and  that  little  will  help  us  out  of  the  first  per 
plexity.  But  a  man  possesses  many  things  besides  coined  money  to 
assist  his  friends  with.  All  that  is  in  me  shall  be  devoted  to  these 
helpless  persons  ;  who  doubtless,  on  returning  to  their  senses,  will 
repent  their  present  conduct.  "  Yes,"  continued  be,  "  I  feel  that  you 
have  need  of  help,  and  what  is  mine  to  do,  I  will  perform,  (iive  me 
your  confidence  again  ;  compose  yourselves  for  a  moment,  and  accept 
of  what  I  promise  !  Who  will  receive  the  engagement  of  me  in  the 
name  of  all?" 

Here  he  stretched  out  his  hand  and  cried  :  "I  promise  not  to  flinch 
from  you,  never  to  forsake  you  till  each  shall  see  his  losses  doubly 
and  trebly  repaired  ;  till  the  situation  you  are  fallen  into,  by  whose 
blame  soever,  shall  be  totally  forgotten  by  all  of  you,  and  changed 
for  a  better." 

He  kept  his  hand  still  stretched  out :  but  no  one  would  take  hold 
of  it.  "1  promise  it  again,"  cried  he,  sinking  back  upon  his  pillow. 
All  continued  silent  ;  they  felt  ashamed,  but  nothing  comforted  ;  and 
Philina,  sitting  on  her  chest,  kept  cracking  nuts,  a  stock  of  which  she 
had  discovered  in  her  pocket. 


176  MEISTEU'S  APPHENTIGESHIP. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  huntsman  now  came  back  witli  several  people,  and  made  prep- 
arations for  carrying  away  the  wounded  youth.  He  had  persuaded 
the  parson  of  the  place  to  receive  the  ' '  young  couple  "  into  his  house  ; 
Philina's  trunk  was  taken  out  ;  she  followed  with  a  natural  air  of 
dignity.  Mignon  ran  before  :  and  when  the  patient  reached  the  par- 
sonage, a  wide  couch,  which  had  long  been  standing  ready  as  guest's 
bed  and  bed  of  honor,  was  assigned  him.  Here  it  was  first  discovered, 
that  his  wound  had  opened  and  bled  profusely.  A  new  bandage  was 
required  for  it.  He  fell  into  a  feverish  state  ;  Philina  waited  on  him 
faithfully  ;  and  when  fatigue  overpowered  her,  she  was  relieved  by 
the  harper.  Mignon,  with  the  firmest  purpose  to  watch,  had  fallen 
asleep  in  a  corner. 

Next  morning,  Wilhelm,  who  felt  himself  in  some  degree  refreshed, 
learned  by  inquiring  of  the  huntsman,  that  the  honorable  persons 
who  last  night  assisted  him  so  nobly,  had  shortly  before  left  their 
estates,  in  order  to  avoid  the  movements  of  the  contending  armies, 
and  remain  till  the  time  of  peace  in  some  more  quiet  district.  He 
named  the  elderly  nobleman  as  well  as  his  niece  ;  mentioned  the 
place  they  were  first  going  to  ;  and  told  how  the  young  lady  had 
charged  him  to  take  care  of  Wilhelm. 

The  entrance  of  the  surgeon  interrupted  the  warm  expressions  of 
gratitude,  in  which  our  friend  was  pouring  out  his  feelings.  He 
made  a  circumstantial  description  of  the  wounds  ;  and  certified  that 
they  would  soon  heal,  if  the  patient  took  care  of  them,  and  kept  him- 
self at  peace. 

When  the  huntsman  was  gone,  Philina  signified  that  he  had  left 
with  her  a  purse  of  twenty  louis-d'or  ;  that  he  had  given  the  parson 
a  remuneration  for  their  lodging,  and  left  with  him  money  to  defray 
the  surgeon's  bill  when  the  cure  should  be  completed.  She  added, 
that  she  herself  passed  everywhere  for  Wilhelm's  wife  ;  that  she 
now  begged  leave  to  introduce  herself  once  for  all  in  this  capacity, 
and  would  not  allow  him  to  look  out  for  any  other  sick-nurse. 

"  Philina,"  said  Wilhelm,  "in  this  disaster  that  has  overtaken  us, 
I  am  already  deeply  in  your  debt  for  kindness  shown  me  ;  and  I 
should  not  wish  to  see  my  obligations  incteased.  I  am  restless  so 
long  as  you  are  near  me  ;  for  I  know  of  nothing  by  which  I  can  repay 
your  labor.  Give  me  my  things  which  you  have  saved  in  your 
trunk  :  unite  yourself  to  the  rest  of  the  company  ;  seek  another  lodg- 
ing, take  my  thanks,  and  the  gold  watch  as  a  small  acknowledg- 
ment :  only  leave  me  ;  your  presence  disturbs  me  more  than  you  can 
fancy." 

She  laughed  in  his  face  when  he  bad  ended.     "  Thou  art  a  fool," 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  IX.  177 

she  said  ;  "  thou  wilt  uot  gather  wisdom.  I  know  better  what  is 
good  for  thee  ;  I  will  stay,  I  will  not  budge  from  the  spot.  I  have 
never  counted  on  the  gratitude  of  men,  and  therefore  not  on  thine  ; 
and  if  I  have  a  touch  of  kindness  for  thee,  what  hast  thou  to  do 
with  it  ?  " 

She  stayed  accordingly  ;  and  soon  wormed  herself  into  favor  with 
the  parson  and  his  household  ;  being  always  cheerful,  liaving  the 
knack  of  giving  little  presents,  and  of  talking  to  each  in  his  own 
vein  ;  at  the  same  time  always  contriving  to  do  exactly  what  she 
pleased.  Wilhelm's  state  was  not  uncomfortable  :  the  surgeon,  an 
ignorant  but  no  unskillful  man,  let  nature  play  her  part ;  and  the 
patient  was  not  long  till  he  felt  himself  recovering.  For  such  con- 
summation, being  eager  to  pursue  his  plans  and  wishes,  he  vehe- 
mently longed. 

Incessantly  he  kept  recalling  that  event,  which  had  made  an  inef- 
faceable impression  on  his  heart.  He  saw  the  beautiful  Amazon  again 
come  riding  out  of  the  thickets  ;  she  approached  him,  dismounted, 
went  to  and  fro,  and  strove  to  serve  him.  lie  saw  the  garment  she 
was  wrapt  in  fall  down  from  her  shoulders  ;  he  saw  her  countenance, 
her  figure  vanish  in  their  radiance.  All  the  dreams  of  his  youth  now 
fastened  on  this  image.  Here  he  conceived  he  had  at  length  beheld 
the  noble,  the  heroic  Clorinda  with  his  own  eyes  ;  and  again  he  be- 
thought him  of  that  royal  youth,  to  whose  sick-bed  the  lovely  sym- 
pathizing princess  came  in  her  modest  meekness. 

"  May  it  not  be,"  said  he  often  to  himself  in  secret,  "  that  in  youth  \ 
as  in  sleep,  the  images  of  coming  things  hover  round  us,  and-myste- ; 
piously  become  visible  to  our  unobstructed  eyes?  May  not  the  seeds  \ 
of  what  is  to  betide  us  be  already  scattered  by  the  hand  of  fate  ;  may  { 
not  a  foretaste  of  the  fruits  we  yet  hope  to  gather  possibly  be  given  j 
us '? " 

His  sick-bed  gave  him  leisure  to  repeat  those  scenes  in  every  mood. 
A  thousand  times  he  called  back  the  tone  of  that  sweet  voice  ;  a  thou- 
sand times  he  envied  Philina,  who  had  kissed  that  helpful  hand. 
Often  the  whole  incident  appeared  before  him  as  a  dream  ;  and  he 
would  have  reckoned  it  a  fiction,  if  the  white  surtout  had  not  been 
left  behind  to  convince  him  that  the  vision  had  a  real  existence. 

With  the  greatest  care  for  this  piece  of  apparel,  he  combined  the 
greatest  wish  to  wear  it.  The  first  time  he  arose  he  put  it  on  ;  and 
was  kept  in  fear  all  day  ^lest  it  might  be  hurt  by  some  stain  or  other 
injury. 


178  MEJSTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Laektes  visited  his  friend.  He  had  not  assisted  in  tliat  lively  scene 
at  the  inn,  being  then  confined  to  bed  in  an  upper  chamber.  For  his 
loss  he  was  already  in  a  great  degree  consoled  ;  he  helped  hinaselt' 
with  his  customary  :  "  What  does  it  signify  V  "  He  detailed  various 
laughable  particulars  about  the  company  ;  particularly  charging  Frau 
Meliua  with  lamenting  the  loss  of  her  still-born  daughter,  solely  be- 
cause she  herself  could  not  on  that  account  enjoy  the  old  German 
satisfaction  of  having  a  Mechthilde  christened.  As  for  her  husband, 
it  now  appeared  that  he  had  been  possessed  of  abundant  cash  ;  and 
even  at  first  had  by  no  means  needed  the  advances  which  he  had  cajoled 
from  \Yilhelm.  Melina's  present  plan  was  to  set  ofE  by  the  next 
postwageu  ;  and  he  meant  to  require  of  Wilhelm  an  introductory 
letter  to  his  friend,  the  manager  Serlo,  in  whose  company,  the  present 
undertaking  having  gone  to  wreck,  he  now  wished  to  establish  him- 
self. 

For  some  days  Mignon  had  been  singularly  quiet ;  when  pressed 
with  questions,  she  at  length  admitted  that  her  right  arm  was  out  of 
joint.  "  Thou  hast  thy  own  folly  to  thank  for  that,"  observed  Phi- 
lina,  and  then  told  how  the  child  had  drawn  her  sword  in  the  battle  ; 
and  seeing  her  friend  in  peril,  had  struck  fiercely  at  the  freebooters  ; 
one  of  whom  had  at  length  seized  her  by  the  ai'm,  and  pitched  her  to 
a  side.  They  chid  her  for  not  sooner  speaking  of  her  ailment  ;  but 
they  easily  saw  that  she  was  apprehensive  of  the  surgeon,  who  had 
hitherto  looked  on  her  as  a  boy.  With  a  view  to  remove  the  mischief , 
she  ^^•as  made  to  keep  her  arm  in  a  sling  ;  which  arrangement,  too, 
displeased  her  ;  for  now  she  was  obliged  to  surrender  most  part  of 
her  share  in  the  management  and  nursing  of  our  friend  to  Philina. 
That  pleasing  sinner  but  showed  herself  the  more  active  and  attentive 
on  this  account. 

One  morning,  on  awakening,  Wilhelm  found  himself  in  a  strange 
neighborhood  with  her.  In  the  movements  of  sleep  he  had  hitched 
himself  quite  to  the  back  of  his  spacious  bed.  Philina  was  lying 
across  from  the  front  part  of  it  ;  she  seemed  to  have  fallen  asleep 
while  sitting  on  the  bed  and  reading.  A  book  had  dropped  from  her 
hand  ;  she  had  sunk  back,  and  her  head  was  lying  near  his  breast, 
over  which  her  fair  and  now  loosened  hair  was  spread  in  streams. 
The  disorder  of  sleep  enlivened  her  charms  more  than  heart  or  pur- 
pose could  have  done  ;  a  childlike  smiling  rest  hovered  on  her  coun- 
tenance. He  looked  at  her  for  a  time  ;  and  seemed  to  blame  himself 
for  the  pleasure  which  this  gave  him.  He  had  viewed  her  attentively 
for  some  moments,  when  she  began  to  awake.  He  softly  closed  his 
eyes  ;  but  could  not  help  glimmering  at  her  through  his  eyelashes, 


BOOK  IV.  GHAPfER  XL  179 

as  she  trimmed  herself  again,  and  went  away  to  consult  about  break- 
fast. 

All  the  actors  had  at  length  successively  announced  "themselves  to 
Wilhelm  ;  asking  introductory  letters,  requiring  money  for  their 
journey  with  more  or  less  impatience  and  ill-breeding  ;  and  constantly 
receiving  it  against  Pliilina's  will.  It  was  in  vain  for  her  to  tell  our 
friend,  that  the  huntsman  liad  already  left  a  handsome  sum  with 
these  people,  and  that  accordingly  they  did  but  cozen  him.  To  these 
remonstrances  he  gave  no  heed  ;  on  the  conti-ary,  the  two  had  a  sharp 
quarrel  on  the  subject  ;  which  ended  by  Wilhelm  signifying  once  for 
all,  that  Philina  must  now  join  the  rest  of  the  company  and  seek  her 
fortune  with  Serlo. 

For  an  instant  or  two  she  lost  temper  ;  but  speedily  recovering  her 
composure,  she  cried,  "If-I  had  but  my  fair-haired  boy  again,  I 
should  not  care  a  fig  for  any  of  you."  She  meant  Friedrich,  who  had 
vanished  from  the  scene  of  battle,  and  never  since  appeared. 

Next  morning  Mignon  brought  news  to  the  bedside,  that  Philina 
had  gone  off  by  night,  leaving  all  that  belonged  to  Wilhelm  very 
neatly  laid  out  in  the  nest  room.  lie  felt  her  absence  ;  he  had  lost 
in  her  a  faithful  nurse,  a  cheerful  companion  ;  he  was  no  longer  used 
to  be  alone.     But  Mignon  soon  filled  up  the  blank. 

Ever  since  that  light-minded  beauty  had  been  near  the  patient  with 
her  friendly  cares,  the  little  creature  had  by  degrees  drawn  back,  and 
remained  silent  and  secluded  in  herself  ;  but  the  field  being  clear 
once  more,  .she  again  came  forth  with  her  attentions  and  her  love  ; 
again  was  eager  in  serving,  and  lively  in  entertaining  him. 


CHAPTER  XL 


Wilhelm  was  rapidly  approaching  complete  recovery  ;  he  now 
hoped  to  be  upon  hie  journey  in  a  few  days.  He  proposed  no  more 
to  lead  an  aimless  routine  of  existence  ;  the  steps  of  his  career  were 
henceforth  to  be  calculated  for  an  end.  In  the  first  place,  he  pur- 
posed to  seek  out  that  beneficent  lady,  and  express  the  gratitude 
he  felt  to  her  ;  then  to  proceed  without  delay  to  his  friend  the  mana- 
ger, that  he  might  do  his  utmost  to  assist  the  luckless  company  ;  in- 
tending at  the  same  time  to  visit  the  commercial  friends  whom  he 
had  letters  for,  and  to  transact  the  business  which  had  been  intrusted 
to  him.  He  was  not  without  hope  that  fortune,  as  formerly,  would 
favor  him  ;  and  give  him  opportunity,  by  some  lucky  speculation,  to 
repair  his  losses,  and  fill  up  the  vacuity  of  liis  coffer. 

The  desire  of  again  beholding  his  beautiful  deliverer  augmented 
every  day.  To  settle  his  route,  he  took  counsel  with  the  clergyman, 
a  person  well  skilled  in  statistics  and  geography,  and  possessing  a 


180  MEI8TEW8  APPRENTIGE8H1P. 

fine  collection  of  charts  and  books  on  those  subjects.  They  twd 
searched  for  the  place  wliich  this  noble  family  had  chosen  as  their 
residence  while  the  war  continued  ;  they  searched  for  information 
respecting  the  family  itself.  But  their  place  was  to  be  found  in 
no  geography  or  map  :  and  the  heraldic  manuals  made  no  mention 
of  their  name.  Wilhelm  became  restless  ;  and  having  mentioned  the 
cause  of  his  uneasiness,  the  harper  told  him  he  had  reason  to  believe 
that  tlie  huntsman,  for  whatever  reason,  had  concealed  the  real 
designations. 

Conceiving  himself  now  to  be  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  his 
lovely  benefactress,  Wilhelm  hoped  he  might  obtain  some  tidings  of 
her,  if  he  sent  out  the  harper  ;  but  in  this  too  he  was  deceived.  Dili- 
gently as  the  old  man  kept  inquiring,  he  could  find  no  trace  of  her. 
Of  late  days  a  number  of  quick  movements  and  unforeseen  marches 
had  taken  place  in  that  quarter  ;  no  one  had  particularly  noticed  the 
traveling  party  ;  and  the  ancient  messenger,  to  avoid  being  taken  for 
a  Jewish  spy,  was  obliged  to  return,  and  appear  without  any  olive- 
leaf  before  his  master  and  friend.  He  gave  a  strict  account  of  his 
conduct  in  this  commission,  striving  to  keep  far  from  him  all  suspi- 
cions of  remissness.  He  endeavored  by  every  means  to  mitigate  the 
trouble  of  our  friend  ;  bethought  him  of  every  tiling  that  he  had 
learned  from  the  huntsman,  and  advanced  a  number  of  conjectures  ; 
out  of  all  which,  one  circumstance  at  length  came  to  light,  whereby 
Wilhelm  could  explain  some  enigmatic  words  of  his  vanished  bene- 
factress. 

The  freebooters,  it  appeared,  had  lain  in  wait,  not  for  the  wander- 
ing troupe,  but  for  the  noble  company,  whom  they  rightly  guessed  to 
be  provided  with  store  of  gold  and  valuables,  and  of  whose  movements 
they  must  have  had  precise  intelligence.  Whether  the  attack  should 
be  imputed  to  some  free-corps,  to  marauders,  or  to  robbers,  was  un- 
certain. It  was  clear,  however,  that  by  good  fortune  for  the  high 
and  rich  company,  the  poor  and  low  had  first  arrived  upon  the  place, 
and  undergone  the  fate  which  was  provided  for  the  others.  It  was 
to  this  that  the  lady's  words  referred,  which  Wilhelm  yet  well  recol- 
lected. If  he  might  now  be  happy  and  contented,  that  a  prescient 
genius  had  selected  him  for  the  sacrifice,  which  saved  a  perfect  mor- 
tal ;  he  was,  on  the  other  hand,  nigh  desperate,  when  he  thought 
that  all  hope  of  finding  her  and  seeing  her  again  was,  at  least  for  the 
present,  completely  gone. 

What  increased  this  singular  emotion  still  farther,  was  the  likeness 
which  he  thought  he  had  observed  between  the  countess  and  the 
beautiful  unknown.  They  resembled  one  another,  as  two  sisters 
may,  of  whom  neither  can  be  called  the  younger  or  the  elder,  for 
they  seem  to  be  twins. 

The  recollection  of  the  amiable  countess  was  to  Wilhelm  infinitely 
sweet.  He  recalled  her  image  but  too  willingly  into  his  memory. 
But  anon  the  figure  of  the  noble  Amazon  would  step  l)etween  ;  one 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XIL  181 

vision  melted  and  changed  into  the  other,  and  the  form  of  neither 
would  abide  witli  him. 

A  new  resemblance,  the  similarity  of  their  handwritings,  naturally 
struck  him  with  still  greater  wonder.  He  had  a  cliarmiug  song  in  the 
countess's  hand  laid  up  iu  liis  portfolio  ;  and  in  the  surtout  he  had 
found  a  little  note,  inquiring  with  much  tender  care  about  the  health 
of  an  uncle. 

Willielm  was  convinced  that  his  benefactress  must  have  penned  this 
billet  ;  that  it  must  have  been  sent  from  one  chamber  to  anotlier,  at 
some  inn  during  their  journey,  and  put  into  the  coat-pocket  by  the 
uncle.  He  held  both  papers  together  ;  and  if  the  regular  and  grace- 
ful letters  of  the  countess  had  already  pleased  him  much,  he  found 
in  the  similar  but  freer  lines  of  the  stranger  a  flowing  harmony  which 
could  not  be  described.  The  note  contained  nothing  ;  yet  the  strokes 
of  it  seemed  to  affect  him,  as  the  presence  of  their  fancied  writer  once 
had  done. 

He  fell  into  a  dreamy  longing  ;  and  well  accordant  with  his  feel- 
ings was  the  song  which  at  that  instant  Mignon  and  tlie  harper  began 
to  sing,  with  a  touching  expression,  in  the  form  of  an  irregular  duet  : 

Yoii  never  long'd  and  lov'd, 

You  know  not  grief  like  mine  : 

Alone  and  far  remov'd 

From  joys  or  hopes,  I  pine  : 

A  foreign  sky  above, 

And  a  foreigii  earth  below  me, 

To  the  south  I  look  all  day  ; 

For  the  hearts  that  love  aiid  know  me 

Are  far,  are  far  away. 

I  bum,  I  faint, 'I  languish. 

My  heart  is  waste,  and  sick,  and  sore  ; 

VV  ho  has  not  long'd  in  baffled  anguish 

Cannot  know  what  I  deplore. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


The  .soft  allurements  of  his  dear  presiding  angel,  far  from  leading 
our  friend  to  any  determined  path,  did  but  nourish  and  increase  tlie 
unrest  which  he  had  previously  experienced.  A  secret  fire  was  glid- 
ing through  his  veins  ;  objects  distinct  and  indistinct  alternated  within 
his  soul,  and  awoke  unspeakable  desire.  At  one  time  he  wished  for 
a  horse,  at  another  for  wings  ;  and  not  till  it  seemed  impossible  that 
he  could  stay,  did  he  look  round  him  to  discover  whither  he  was 
wanting  to  go. 

The  threads  of  his  destiny  had  become  so  strangely  entangled,  he 
■wished  to  .see  its  curious  knots  unraveled  or  cut  in  two.  Often, 
when  he  heard  the  tramp  of  a  horse  or  the  rolling  of  a  carriage,  he 


183  MEISTER'S  APPBENTIGESHlP. 

would  run  to  the  window  and  look  out,  in  hopes  it  might  be  some 
one  seeking  him  ;  some  one,  even  though  it  were  by  chance,  bringing 
him  intelligence  and  certainty  and  joy.  He  told  stories  to  .himself, 
how  his  friend  Werner  might  visit  these  parts  and  come  upon  him  ; 
how  perliaps  Mariana  might  appear.  The  sound  of  every  post's  horn 
threw  him  into  agitation.  It  would  be  Melina  sending  news  to  him 
of  his  adventures  ;  above  all,  it  would  be  the  huntsman  coming  back 
to  carry  him  to  the  beauty  whom  he  worshiped. 

Of  all  these  possibilities,  unhappily  no  one  occurred:  he  was  forced  at 
last  to  return  to  the  company  of  himself  ;  and  in  again  looking  through 
the  past,  there  was  one  circumstance,  which  the  more  he  viewed  and 
weighed  it,  grew  the  more  offensive  and  intolerable  to  him.  It  was 
his  unprosperous  generalship  ;  of  which  he  never  thought  without 
vexation.  For  although,  on  the  evening  of  the  luckless  day,  he  had 
produced  a  pretty  fair  defense  of  his  conduct  when  accused  by  the 
company,  yet  he  could  not  hide  from  himself  that  he  was  guilty.  On 
the  contrary,  in  hypochondriacal  moments  he  took  the  blame  of  the 
whole  misfortune.  .  .--^ 

V  Self-love  exaggerates  our  faults  as  well  as  our  virtues.^)  Wilhelm 
thought  he  liad  awakened  confidence  in  him,  had  guid^^the  will  of 
the  rest  ;  that,  led  by  inexperience  and  rashness,  they  had  ventured 
on,  till  a  danger  seized  them,  for  which  they  were  no  match.  Loud 
as  well  as  silent  reproaches  had  then  assailed  him  ;  and  if  in  their 
sorrowful  condition  he  had  promised  to  the  company,  misguided  by 
him,  never  to  forsake  tlieni  till  their  loss  had  been  repaid  with  usury  ; 
this  was  but  another  folly  for  which  he  had  to  blame  himself,  the 
folly  of  presuming  to  take  upon  his  single  shoulders  a  misfortune  that 
was  spread  over  many.  One  instant  he  accused  himself  of  uttering 
this  promise,  under  the  excitement  and  the  pressure  of  the  moment ; 
the  next  he  again  felt  that  this  generous  presentation  of  his  hand, 
which  no  one  deigned  to  accept,  was  but  a  light  formality  compared 
with  the  vow  which  his  heart  had  taken.  He  meditated  means  of 
being  kind  and  useful  to  them  ;  he  found  every  cause  conspire  to 
quicken  his  visit  to  Serlo.  Accordingly  he  packed  his  things  together  ; 
and  without  waiting  his  complete  recovery,  without  listening  to  the 
counsel  of  the  parson  or  the  surgeon,  he  hastened,  in  the  strange 
society  of  Mignon  and  the  harper,  to  escape  the  inactivity,  in  which 
his  fate  had  once  more  too  long  detained  him. 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XIII  '183 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Serlo  received  him  with  open  arms,  crying  as  he  met  him  :  "Is 
it  you  ?  Do  I  see  you  again  ?  You  have  scarcely  changed  at  all.  Is 
your  love  for  that  noblest  of  arts  still  as  lively  and  strong  ?  I  myself 
am  so  glad  at  your  arrival,  I  even  feel  no  longer  the  mistrust  which 
your  last  letters  had  exxjited  in  me." 

Wilhelm  asked  with  surprise  for  a  clearer  explanation. 

"  You  have  treated  me,"  said  Serlo,  "  not  like  an  old  friend,  but  as 
if  I  were  a  great  lord,  to  whom  with  a  safe  conscience  you  might 
recommend  useless  people.  Our  destiny  depends  on  the  opinion  of 
the  public  ;  and  I  fear  Herr  Melina  and  his  suite  can  hardly  be 
received  among  us." 

Wilhelm  tried  to  say  something  in  their  favor  ;  but  Serlo  began  to 
draw  so  merciless  a  picture  of  them,  that  our  friend  was  happy  when 
a  lady  came  into  the  room,  and  put  a  stop  to  the  discussion.  She 
was  introduced  to  him  as  Aurelia,  the  sister  of  his  friend  :  she  received 
liim  with  extreme  kindne.ss  ;  and  her  conversation  was  so  pleasing, 
that  he  did  not  once  remark  a  shade  of  sorrow  visible  on  her  expres- 
sive countenance,  to  which  it  lent  peculiar  interest. 

For  the  first  time  during  many  months,  Wilhelm  felt  himself  in 
his  proper  element  once  more.  Of  late  in  talking,  he  had  merely 
found  submissive  listeners,  and  even  these  not  always  ;  but  now  he 
had  the  happiness  to  speak  with  critics  and  artists,  who  not  only 
fully  understood  him,  but  repaid  his  observations  by  others  equally 
instructive.  With  wonderful  vivacity  they  traveled  through  the 
latest  pieces  ;  with  wonderful  correctness  judged  them.  The  decis- 
ions of  the  public  they  could  try  and  estimate  ;  they  speedily  threw 
light  on  each  other's  thoughts. 

Loving  Shakespeare  as  our  friend  did,  he  failed  not  to  lead  round 
the  conversation  to  the  merits  of  that  dramatist.  Expressing,  as  he 
entertained,  the  liveliest  hopes  of  the  new  epoch  which  these  exquisite 
productions  must  form  in  Clermauy,  he  ere  long  introduced  his  Ham- 
let, who  had  busied  him  so  much  of  late. 

Serlo  declared  that  he  would  long  ago  have  played  the  piece,  had 
this  been  possible,  and  that  he  himself  would  willingly  engage  to  act 
Polonius.  He  added,  with  a  smile  :  "  An  Ophelia,  too,  will  certainly 
turn  up,  if  we  had  but  a  Prince." 

Wilhelm  did  not  notice  that  Aurelia  seemed  a  little  hurt  at  her 
brother's  sarcasm.  Our  friend  was  iu  his  proper  vein,  becoming 
copious  and  didactic,  expounding  how  he  would  have  Hamlet  played. 
He  circumstantially  delivered  to  his  hearers  the  opinions  we  before 
saw  him  busied  with  ;  taking  all  the  trouble  possible  to  make  his 
notion  of  the  matter  acceptable,  skeptical  as  Serlo  showed  himself 


isi 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


regarding  it.  "Well,  then,"  said  the  latter,  finally,  "suppose  we 
grant  you  all  this,  what  will  you  explain  by  it  ?  " 

"  Much,  everything,"  said  Wilhelm.  "  Conceive  a  prince  such  as  I 
have  painted  him,  and  that  his  father  suddenly  dies.  Ambition  and 
the  love  of  rule  are  not  tlie  passions  that  inspire  him.  As  a  king's 
sou  he  would  have  been  contented  ;  but  now  he  is  first  constrained  to 
consider  the  difference  which  separates  a  sovereign  from  a  subject. 
The  crown  was  not  hereditary  ;  yet  a  longer  possession  of  it  by  his 
father  would  have  strengthened  the  pretensions  of  an  only  son,  and 
secured  his  hopes  of  the  succession.  In  place  of  this,  he  now  beholds 
himself  excluded  by  his  uncle,  in  spite  of  specious  promises,  most 
probably  forever.  He  is  now  poor  in  goods  and  favor,  and  a  stranger 
in  the  scene  which  from  youth  he  had  looked  upon  as  his  inheritance. 
His  temper  here  assumes  its  first  mournful  tinge.  He  feels  that  now 
he  is  not  more,  that  he  is  less,  than  a  private  nobleman  ;  he  offers 
himself  as  the  servant  of  every  one  ;  he  is  not  courteous  and  conde- 
scending, he  is  needy  and  degraded. 

' '  His  past  condition  he  remembers  as  a  vanished  dream.  It  is  in 
vain  that  his  uncle  strives  to  cheer  him,  to  present  his  situation  in 
another  point  of  view.  The  feeling  of  his  nothingness  will  not  leave 
him.  • 

"  The  second  stroke  that  came  upon  him  wounded  deeper,  bowed 
still  more.  It  was  the  marriage  of  his  mother.  The  faithful  tender 
son  had  yet  a  mother,  when  his  father  passed  away.  He  hoped,  in 
the  company  of  his  surviving  noble-minded  })arent,  to  reverence  the 
heroic  form  of  the  departed  ;  but  his  mother  too  he  loses,  and  it  is 
something  worse  than  death  that  robs  him  of  her.  The  trustful 
image,  which  a  good  child  loves  to  form  of  its  parents,  is  gone. 
With  the  dead  there  is  no  help  ;  on  the  living  no  hold.  She  also  is 
woman,  and  her  name  is  Frailty,  like  that  of  all  her  sex. 

"  Now  first  does  he  feel  himself  completely  bent  and  orphaned; 
and  no  happiness  of  life  can  repay  what  he  has  lost.  Not  reflective 
or  sorrowful  by  nature,  reflection  and  sorrow  have  become  for  hun  a 
heavy  obligation.  It  is  thus  that  we  see  him  first  enter  on  the  scene. 
I  do  not  think  that  I  have  mixed  aught  foreign  with  the  piece,  or 
overcharged  a  single  feature  of  it." 

Serlo  looked  at  his  sister,  and  said,  "  Did  I  give  thee  a  false  picture 
of  our  friend  ?  He  begins  well ;  he  has  still  many  things  to  tell  us, 
many  to  persuade  us  of."  Wilhelm  asseverated  loudly,  that  he 
meant  not  to  persuade,  but  to  convince  ;  he  beg-ged  for  another 
moment's  patience. 

"  Figure  to  yourselves  this  youth,"  cried  he,  "this  son  of  princes  ; 
conceive  him  vividly,  bring  his  state  before  your  eyes,  and  then 
observe  him  when  he  learns  that  his  father's  spirit  walks  ;  stand  by 
him  in  the  terrors  of  the  night,  when  the  venerable  ghost  itself 
appears  before  him.  A  horrid  shudder  passes  over  him  ;  he  speaks 
to  the  mysterious  form ;  he  sees  it  beckon  him  ;  he  follows  it,  and 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XIV.  185 

hears.  The  fearful  accusation  of  his  uncle  rings  in  his  ears  ;  the 
summons  to  revenge,  and  the  piercing  oft-repeated  prayer,  Remember 
me ! 

"And  when  the  ghost  has  vanished,  who  is  it  that  stands  before 
us?  A  young  hero  panting  for  vengeance?  A  prince  by  birth, 
rejoicing  to  be  called  to  punish  the  usurper  of  his  crown  ?  No  I 
trouble  and  astonishment  take  hold  of  the  solitary  young  man  ;  he 
grows  bitter  against  smiling  villains,  swears  that  he  will  not  forget 
the  spirit,  and  concludes  with  the  significant  ejaculation  : 

The  time  is  out  of  joint :  O  cursed  spite, 
That  ever  I  was  born  to  set  it  right ! 

"In  these  words,  I  imagine,  will  be  found  the  key  to  Hamlet's 
whole  procedure.  To_me  it  is  clear  that  Shakesi)eare  meant,  in  the 
present  case,  to  represent  the  effects  of  a  great  action  laid  upon  a  soul 
unfit  for  the  performance  of  it.  In  this  view  the  whole  piece  seems 
to  nie  fo  be  composed.  There  is  an  oak-tree  planted  in  a  costly  jar, 
which  should  have  borne  only  pleasant  Howers  in  its  bosom  ;  the, 
roots  expand,  the  jar  is  shivered. 

"  A  lovely,  pure,  noble  and  most  moral  nature,  without  the  strength 
of  nerve  which  forms  a  hero,  sinks  l^eneath  a  burden  which  it  cannot 
bear  and  must  not  cast  away.  All  duties  are  holy  for  him  ;  the  jires- 
ent  is  too  hard.  Impossibilities  have  been  required  of  him  ;  not  in 
themselves  impossibilities,  but  such  for  him.  He  winds,  and  turns, 
and  torments  himself ;  he  advances  and  recoils  ;  is  ever  put  in 
mind,  ever  puts  himself  in  mind  ;  at  last  does  all  but  lose  his  purpose 
from  his  thoughts  ;  yet  still  without  recovering  his  peace  of  mind." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Severax,  people  entering  interrupted  the  discussion.  They  were 
musical  dilettanti,  who  commonly  assembled  at  Serlo's  once  a  week, 
and  formed  a  little  concert.  Serlo  himself  loved  music  much  :  he 
used  to  maintain,  that  a  player  without  taste  for  it  never  could  attain 
a  distinct  conception  and  feeling  of  the  scenic  art.  "  As  a  man  per- 
forms," he  would  observe,  "  with  far  more  ease  and  dignity,  when  his 
gestures  are  accompanied  and  guided  by  a  tune  ;  so  the  player  ought, 
in  idea,  as  it  were,  to  set  to  music  even  his  prose  parts,  that  he  may 
not  monotonously  slight  them  over  in  his  individual  style,  but  treat 
them  in  suitable  alternation  by  time  and  measure. " 

Aurelia  seemed  to  give  biit  little  heed  to  what  was  passing  ;  at  last 
she  conducted  Wilhelm  to  another  room,  and  going  to  the  window  and 
looking  out  at  the  starry  sky,  she  said  to  him  :  "  You  have  still  much 


186  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

to  tell  us  about  Hamlet  ;  I  will  uot  hurry  you  ;  my  brother  must  hear 
it  as  well  as  I  ;  but  let  me  beg  to  know  your  thoughts  about  Ophelia." 

"Of  her  there  cannot  much  be  said,"  he  answered,  "for  a  few 
master  strokes  complete  her  character.  The  whole  being  of  Ophelia 
floats  in  sweet  and  ripe  sensation.  Kindness  for  the  prince,  to  whose 
hand  she  may  aspire,  flows  so  spontaneously,  her  tender  heart  obeys 
its  impulses  so  unresistingly,  that  both  father  and  brother  are  afraid ; 
both  give  her  warning  harshly  and  directly.  Decorum,  like  the  thin 
lawn  upon  her  bosom,  cannot  hide  the  soft,  still  movements  of  hex 
heart  ;  it,  on  the  contrary,  betrays  them.  Her  fancy  is  smit  ;  hem, 
silent  modesty  breathes  amiable  desire,  and  if  the  friendly  goddessl 
.Opportunity  should  shake  the  tree,  its  fruit  would  fall." 

"  And  then,"  said  Aurelia,  "when  she  beholds  her.self  forsaken, 
cast  away,  despised  ;  when  all  is  inverted  in  the  soul  of  her  crazed 
lover,  and  the  highest  changes  to  the  lowest,  and  instead  of  the  sweet 
cup  of  love  he  ofters  lier  the  bitter  cup  of  woe " 

"  Her  heart  breaks,"  cried  Wilhelm  ;  "the  whole  structure  of  her 
being  is  loosened  from  its  joinings  ;  her  father's  death  strikes  fiercely 
against  it,  and  the  fair  edifice  altogether  crumbles  into  fragments." 

Our  friend  had  not  observed  with  what  expressiveness  Aurelia  pro- 
nounced those  words.  Looking  only  at  this  work  of  art,  at  its  connec- 
tion and  completeness,  he  dreamed  not  that  his  auditress  was  feeling 
quite  a  different  influence  ;  that  a  deep  sorrow  of  her  own  was  vividly 
awakened  in  her  breast  by  these  dramatic  shadows. 

Aurelia's  head  was  still  resting  on  lier  arms  ;  and  her  eyes,  now 
full  of  tears,  were  directed  to  the  sky.  At  last,  no  longer  able  to  con- 
ceal her  secret  grief,  she  seized  both  hands  of  her  friend,  and 
exclaimed,  while  he  stood  surprised  before  her  :  "  Forgive,  forgive  a 
heavy  heart  !  I  am  girt  and  pressed  together  by  these  people  ;  from 
my  hard-hearted  brother  I  must  seek  to  hide  myself  ;  your  presence 
has  untied  tliese  bonds.  My  friend,"  continued  she,  "  it  is  but  a  few 
minutes  since  we  saw  each  other  first,  and  already  you  are  going  to 
become  my  confidant. "  She  could  scarcely  end  the  Avords,  and  sank 
upon  his  shoulder.  "Think  not  worse  of  me,"  she  said,  with  sobs, 
"that  I  disclose  myself  to  you  so  hastily,  that  1  am  so  weak  before 
you.  Be  my  friend,  remain  my  friend  :  1  shall  deserve  it. "  He  spoke 
to  her  in  his  kindest  manner,  but  in  vain  ;  her  tears  still  flowed,  and 
choked  lier  words. 

At  this  moment  Serlo  entered,  most  unwelcomely  ;  and  most  unex- 
pectedly, Philina  with  her  hand  in  his.  "  Here  is  your  friend,"  said 
he  to  her;   "  he  will  be  glad  to  make  his  compliments  to  you." 

"  How  !  "  cried  Wilhelm,  in  astonishment,  "  are  you  here'?"  With 
a  modest,  settled  mien,  she  Avent  up  to  him  ;  bade  him  welcome  ; 
praised  Serlo's  goodness,  who,  she  said,  without  merit  on  her  part, 
but  purely  in  the  hope  of  her  improvement,  had  agreed  to  admit  her 
into  his  accomplished  troupe.  She  behaved  all  the  while  in  a  friendly 
manner  towards  Wilhelm,  yet  with  a  dignified  distance. 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XV.  187 

But  this  dissimulation  lasted  only  till  the  other  two  were  gone. 
Aurelia  having  left  them,  that  she  might  conceal  her  trouble,  and 
Serlo  being  called  away,  Philiua  first  looked  very  sharply  at  the  doors 
to  see  that  both  were  really  out  ;  then  began  skipping  to  and  fro  about 
the  room,  as  if  she  had  been  mad  ;  at  last  dropped  down  upon  the 
floor,  like  to  die  of  giggling  and  laughing.  She  then  sprang  up,  pat- 
ted- and  flattered  our  friend  ;  rejoicing  above  measure  that  she  had 
been  clever  enough  to  go  before,  and  spy  the  land  and  get  herself 
nestled  in. 

"  Pretty  things  are  going  on  here,"  she  said:  "just  of  the  sort  I 
like.  Aurelia  has  had  a  hapless  love  affair  with  some  nobleman,  who. 
seems  to  be  a  very  stately  person,  one  whom  I  myself  could  like  to 
see,  some  day.  He  has  left  her  a  memorial,  or  I  much  mistake. 
There  is  a  boy  running  about  the  house,  of  three  years  old  or  so  ;  the 
papa  must  be  a  very  pretty  fellow.  Commonly  I  cannot  suffer  chil- 
dren, but  this  brat  quite  delights  me.  I  have  calculated  Aurelia's 
business.  The  death  of  her  husband,  the  new  acquaintance,  the 
child's  age,  all  things  agree. 

' '  But  now  her  spark  has  gone  his  ways  ;  for  a  year  she  has  not 
seen  a  glimpse  of  him.  She  is  beside  herself  and  inconsolable,  on 
this  account.  The  more  fool  she  !  Her  brother  has  a  dancing  girl  in 
his  troupe,  with  whom  he  stands  on  pretty  terms  ;  an  actress  to  whom 
he  is  betrothed  ;  in  the  town,  some  other  women  wliom  he  courts  ;  I 
too  am  on  his  list.  The  more  fool  he  !  Of  the  rest  thou  shalt  hear 
to-morrow.  And  now  one  word  about  Philina,  whom  thou  knowest  : 
the  arch-fool  is  fallen  in  love  with  thee."  She  swore  that  it  was  true 
and  a  proper  joke.  She  earnesly  requested  Wilhelm  to  fall  in  love 
with  Aurelia  ;  for  then  the  chase  would  be  worth  beholding.  "  She 
pursues  her  faithless  swain,  thou  her,  I  thee,  her  brother  me.  If 
that  will  not  divert  us  for  a  quarter  of  a  year,  I  engage  to  die  at  the 
first  episode  which  occurs  in  this  four-times  complicated  tale."  She 
begged  of  him  not  to  spoil  her  trade,  and  to  show  her  such  respect  as 
her  external  conduct  should  deserve. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Next  morning  Wilhelm  went  to  visit  Frau  Melina  ;  but  found  her 
not  at  home.  On  inquiring  here  for  the  other  members  of  the  wan- 
dering community,  he  learned  that  Philiua  had  invited  them  to  break- 
fast. Out  of  curi<jsity,  he  hastened  thither  ;  and  found  them  all 
cleared  up  and  not  a  little  comforted.  The  cunning  creature  had  col- 
lected them,  was  treating  them  with  chocolate,  and  giving  them  to 
understand  that  some  prospects  still  remained  for  them  ;  that,  by  her 
influence,  she  hoped  to  convince  the  manager  how  advantageous  it 


188  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

would  be  for  liini  to  introduce  so  many  clever  liands  among  liis  com- 
pany. They  listened  to  lier  with  attention  ;  swallowed  cup  after  cup 
of  her  chocolate  ;  thought  the  girl  was  not  so  bad  after  all ;  and  went 
away  proposing  to  themselves  to  speak  whatever  good  of  her  they 
could. 

"  Do  you  think  then,"  said  our  friend,  who  stayed  behind,  "that 
Serlo  will  determine  to  retain  our  comrades?  "  "  Not  at  all,"  replied 
Philina  ;  "  uor  do  I  care  a  fig  for  it.  The  sooner  they  are  gone  the 
better  !  Laertes  alone  I  could  wish  to  keep  :  the  rest  we  shall  by  and 
by  pack  off . " 

Next  she  signified  to  Wilhelm  her  firm  persuasion  that  he  should 
no  longer  hide  his  talent  ;  but,  under  the  direction  of  Serlo,  go  upon 
the  boards.  She  was  lavish  in  her  praises  of  the  order,  the  taste,  the 
spirit,  which  prevailed  in  this  establishment  ;  she  spoke  so  flatteringly 
to  Wilhelm  ;  and  with  such  admiration  of  his  gifts,  that  his  heart 
and  his  imagination  wt  re  advancing  toward  this  proposal,  as  fast  as 
his  understanding  and  his  reason  were  retreating  from  it.  He  con- 
cealed his  inclination  from  himself  and  from  Philina  ;  and  passed  a 
restless  day,  unable  to  resolve  on  visiting  his  trading  correspondents, 
to  receive  the  letters  which  might  there  be  lying  for  him.  The 
anxieties  of  his  people  during  all  this  time  he  easily  conceived  ;  yet 
he  shrank  from  the  precise  account  of  them  ;  particularly  at  the 
present  time,  as  he  promised  to  himself  a  great  and  pure  enjoyment 
from  the  exhibition  of  a  new  piece  that  evening. 

Serlo  had  refused  to  let  him  witness  the  rehearsal.  "  You  must  see 
us  on  the  best  side,"  he  observed,  "  before  we  can  allow  you  to  look 
into  our  cards." 

The  acting  of  the  piece,  however,  where  our  friend  did  not  fail  to 
be  present,  yielded  him  a  high  satisfaction.  It  was  the  first  time  he 
had  ever  seen  a  theater  in  such  perfection.  The  actors  were  evidently 
all  possessed  of  excellent  gifts,  of  superior  capacities,  and  a  high  clear 
notion  of  their  art  ;  they  were  not  equal  ;  but  they  mutually  re- 
strained and  supported  one  another  ;  each  breathed  ardor  into  those 
around  him  ;  throughout  all  their  acting,  they  showed  themselves 
decided  and  correct.  You  soon  felt  that  Serlo  was  the  soul  of  tin; 
whole  ;  as  an  individual  he  appeared  to  much  advantage.  A  merry 
humor,  a  measured  vivacity,  a  settled  feeling  of  propriety,  combined 
with  a  great  gift  of  imitation,  were  to  be  observed  in  him  the  moment 
he  appeared  upon  the  stage.  The  inward  contentment  of  his  being 
seemed  to  spread  itself  over  all  that  looked  on  him  ;  and  the  intel- 
lectual style,  in  which  he  could  so  easily  and  gracefully  express  the 
finest  shadings  of  his  part,  excited  more  delight,  as  he  could  conceal 
the  art  which,  by  long-continued  practice,  he  had  made  his  own. 

Aurelia,  his  sister,  was  not  inferior  ;  she  obtained  .still  greater  ap- 
probation, for  she  touched  the  souls  of  the  audience,  which  it  was 
his  to  exhilarate  and  amuse. 

After  a  few  days  had  passed  pleasantly  enough,  Aurelia  sent  to 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XV.  189 

inquire  for  our  friend.  He  hastened  to  lier  :  she  was  lying  on  a  sofa  ; 
she  seemed  to  be  sutTering  from  headache  ;  her  whole  frame  had  vis- 
ibly a  feverish  movement.  Her  eye  lighted  up  as  she  noticed  Wil- 
helm.  "  Pardon  me  !  "  she  cried,  as  he  entered  :  "  the  trust  you  have 
inspired  me  with  has  made  me  weak.  Till  now  I  have  contrived  to 
bear  up  against  my  woes  in  secret  ;  nay,  they  gave  me  strength  and 
consolation  ;  but  now,  1  know  now  how  it  is,  you  have  loosened  the 
bands  of  silence  ;  you  must,  against  your  will,  take  part  in  the  battle 
I  am  fighting  with  myself." 

Willielm  answered  her  in  friendly  and  obliging  terms.  He  declared 
that  her  image  and  her  sorrow  had  not  ceased  to  hover  in  his  thoughts  ; 
that  he  longed  for  her  confidence,  and  devoted  himself  to  be  her  friend. 

While  he  spoke,  las  eyes  were  attracted  to  the  boy,  who  sat  before 
her  on  the  floor,-  and  was  busy  rattling  a  multitude  of  playthings. 
This  child,  as  Philina  observed,  might  be  about  three  years  of  age  ; 
and  Wilhelm  now  conceived  how  that  giddy  creature,  seldom  elevated 
in  her  phraseology,  had  likened  it  to  the  sun.  For  its  cheerful  e_yes 
and  full  countenance  were  .shaded  by  the  finest  golden  locks,  which 
flowed  round  in  copious  curls  ;  dark,  slender,  softly-blending  eyebrows 
showed  themselves  upon  a  brow  of  dazzling  whiteness  ;  and  the  liv- 
ing tinge  of  health  was  glancing  on  his  cheeks.  "  Sit  by  me,"  said 
Aiirelia  :  "you  are  looking  at  the  happy  child  with  admiration;  in 
truth,  I  took  it  into  my  arms  with  joy  ;  I  keep  it  carefully  :  yet  by  it 
too  I  can  measure  the  extent  of  my  sufferings  ;  for  they  seldom  let 
me  feel  the  worth  of  such  a  gift." 

"  Allow  me,"  .she  continued,  "to  speak  to  you  about  myself  and 
my  destiny  ;  for  I  have  it  much  at  heart  that  you  should  not  misun- 
derstand me.  I  thought  I  should  have  a  few  calm  instants,  and  ac- 
cordingly I  sent  for  you  ;  you  are  now  here,  and  the  thread  of  my 
narrative  is  lost." 

' ' '  One  more  forsaken  woman  in  the  world  ! '  you  will  say.  You  are 
a  man  ;  you  are  thinking  :  '  What  a  noise  she  makes,  the  fool,  about 
a  necessary  evil  ;  which,  certainly  as  death,  awaits  a  woman,  when 
such  is  the  fidelity  of  men  ! '  0  my  friend  !  if  my  fate  were  com- 
mon, I  would  gladly  undergo  a  common  evil  ;  but  it  is  so  singular  : 
why  cannot  I  present  it  to  you  in  a  mirror,  why  not  command  some 
one  to  .tell  it  you  ?  O,  had  I,  had  I  been  seduced,  surprised,  and  after- 
wards forsaken,  there  would  then  still  be  comfort  in  despair  ;  but  I 
am  far  more  miserable  ;  I  have  been  my  own  dec'^'iver  ;  I  have  wit- 
tingly betrayed  myself  ;  and  this,  this  is  what  shall  never  be  forgiven 
me. " 

"  With  noble  feelings,  such  as  yours,"  said  "Wilhelm,  "  you  can 
never  be  entirely  unhappy."  ■ 

"  And  do  you  know  to  what  I  am  indebted  for  my  feelings  1  "asked 
Aurelia.     "  To  the  worst  education  that  ever  threatened  to  contami- ' 
nate  a  girl ;  to  the  vilest  examples  for  misleading  the  senses  and  the 
inclinations. 


190  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

' '  My  mother  dying  early,  the  fairest  years  of  my  youth  were  spent 
with  an  aunt,  whose  principle  it  was  to  despise  the  laws  of  decency. 
She  resigned  herself  headlong  to  every  impulse  ;  careless  whether 
the  object  of  it  proved  her  tyrant  or  her  slave,  so  she  might  forget 
herself  in  wild  enjoyment. 

"By  children,  with  the  pure  clear  vision  of  innocence,  what  ideas 
of  men  were  necessarily  formed  in  such  a  scene  !  How  stolid,  bru- 
tally bold,  importunate,  unmannerly,  was  every  one  whom  she  allured  ! 
How  sated,  empty,  insolent  and  tasteless,  when  he  left  her  !  I  have 
seen  this  woman  live,  for  years,  humbled  under  the  control  of  the 
meanest  creatures.  What  incidents  she  had  to  undergo  !  With  what 
a  front  she  contrived  to  accommodate  herself  to  her  destiny  ;  nay, 
with  how  much  skill  to  wear  those  shameful  fetters  ! 

"  It  was  thus,  my  friend,  that  I  became  acquainted  with  your  sex  ; 
and  deeply  did  I  hate  it,  when,  as  I  imagined,  I  observed  that  even 
tolerable  men,  in  their  conduct  to  ours,  appeared  to  renounce  every 
honest  feeling,  of  which  nature  might  otherwise  have  made  them 
capable. 

"  Unhappily,  moreover,  on  such  occasions,  a  multitude  of  painful 
discoveries  about  my  own  sex  were  forced  upon  me  :  and  in  truth  I 
was  then  wiser,  as  a  girl  of  sixteen,  than  I  now  am  ;  now  that  Jr\ 
scarcely  understand  myself.     Why  are   we  so  wise  when  young;  so/ 
wise,  and  ever  growing  less  so  V  "  ^/ 

"^ —  The  boy  began  to  make  a  noise  ;  Aurelia  became  imiiatient,  and 
rung.  An  old  wonum  came  to  take  him  out.  "  Ilast  thou  toothache 
still?"  said  Aurelia  to  the  crone,  whose  face  was  wraj^ped  in  cloth. 
"  Unsufferable,"  said  the  other,  with  a  muffled  voice  ;  then  lifted  the 
boy,  wdio  seemed  to  like  going  with  her,  and  carried  him  away. 

Scarcely  was  he  gone,  when  Aurelia  began  bitterly  to  weep.  "I 
am  good  for  nothing,"  cried  she,  "but  lamenting  and  complaining  ; 
and  I  feel  ashamed  to  lie  before  you  lilie  a  miserable  Avorm.  My 
recollection  is  already  fled  ;  I  can  relate  no  more."  She  faltered,  and 
was  silent.  Her  friend,  unwilling  to  reply  with  a  commonplace,  and 
unable  to  reply  with  anything  particularly  applicable,  pressed  her 
hand,  and  looked  at  her  for  some  time  without  speaking.  Thus  em- 
barrassed, he  at  length  took  up  a  book,  which  he  noticed  lying  on  the 
table  before  him  :  it  was  Shakespeare's  works,  and  open  at  Hamlet. 

Serlo  at  this  moment  entei-ing,  inquiring  about  his  sister  ;  and 
looking  in  the  book  which  our  friend  had  hold  of,  cried  :  "So  you 
are  again  at  Hamlet  ?  Very  good  !  Many  doubts  have  arisen  in  me, 
which  seem  not  a  little  to  impair  the  canonical  aspect  of  the  piece  as 
you  would  have  it  viewed.  The  English  themselves  have  admitted 
that  its  chief  interest  concludes  with  the  third  act ;  the  last  two 
lagging  sorrily  on,  and  scarcely  uniting  with  the  rest  :  and  certainly 
about  the  end  it  seems  to  stand  stock-still." 

"It  is  very  possible,"  said  Wilhelm,  "that  some  individuals  of  a 
nation,  which  has  so  many  master-pieces  to  feel  i)roud  of,  may  be  led 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XV.  191 

by  prejudice  and  narrowness  of  mind  to  form  false  judgments  ;  but 
this  cannot  hinder  us  from  looking  with  our  own  eyes,  and  doing 
justice  where  we  see  it  due.  I  am  very  far  from  censuring  the  plan 
of  Hamlet  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  believe  there  never  was  a  grander  one 
invented  ;  nay,  it  is  not  invented,  it  is  real." 

"  How  do  you  demonstrate  that?  "  inquired  Serlo. 

"  I  will  not  demonstrate  anything,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "  I  will  merely 
show  you  what  my  own  conceptions  of  it  are."    ■ 

Aurelia  rose  up  from  her  cushion  ;  leaned  upon  her  hand,  and 
looked  at  Wilhelm  ;  who,  with  the  firmest  assurance  that  he  was  in 
the  right,  went  on  as  follows  :  "It  pleases  us,  it  flatters  us  to  see  a 
hero  acting  on  his  own  strength  ;  loving  and  hating  as  his  heart 
directs  him  ;  undertaking  and  completing  ;  casting  every  obstacle 
aside  ;  and  at  length  attaining  some  great  object  which  he  aimed  at. 
Poets  and  historians  would  willingly  persuade  us  that  so  proud  a  lot 
may  fall  to  man.  In  Hamlet  we  are  taught  another  lesson  :  the  hero 
is  without  a  plan,  but  the  piece  is  full  of  plan.  Here  we  have  no 
villain  punished  on  some  self-conceived  and  rigidly-accomplished 
scheme  of  vengeance  :  a  horrid  deed  occurs  ;  it  rolls  itself  along  with 
all  its  consequences,  dragging  guiltless  persons  also  in  its  course  ;  the 
perpetrator  seems  as  if  he  would  evade  the  abyss  which  is  made  ready 
for  him  ;  yet  he  plunges  in,  at  the  very  point  by  which  he  tliinks  he 
shall  escape  and  happily  complete  his  course. 

' '  For  it  is  the  property  of  crime  to  extend  its  mischief  over  inno- 
cence, as  it  is  of  virtue  to  extend  its  blessings  over  many  that  deserve 
them  not  ;  while  frequently  the  author  of  the  one  or  of  the  other  is 
not  punished  or  rewarded  at  all.  Here  in  this  play  of  ours,  how 
strange  !  The  pit  of  darkness  sends  its  spirit  and  demands  revenge  ; 
in  vain  !  All  circumstances  tend  one  way,  and  hurry  to  revenge  ;  in 
vain  !  Neither  earthly  nor  infernal  thing  may  bring  about  what  is 
reserved  for  fate  alone.  The  hour  of  judgment  comes  :  the  wicked 
falls  with  the  good  :  one  race  is  mowed  away,  that  another  may  spring 
up."  .      • 

■•A-fter  a  pause,  in  which  they  looked  at  one  another,  Serlo  said  : 
"  You  pay  no  great  compliment  to  Providence,  in  thus  exalting  Shake- 
speare ;  and  besides,  it  appears  to  me,  that  for  the  honor  of  your  poet, 
as  others  for  the  honor  of  Providence,  you  ascribe  to  him  an  object 
and  a  plan,  which  he  himself  had  never  thought  of." 


193  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"Let  me  also  put  a  question,"  said  Aurelia.  "  1  have  looked  at 
Ophelia's  part  again  ;  I  ain  contended  with  it,  and  conceive  that  under 
certain  circumstances  I  could  play  it.  But  tell  me,  should  not  the 
poet  have  furnished  the  insane  maiden  with  another  sort  of  songs  1 
Could  not  one  select  some  fragments  out  of  melanclioly  ballads  for  this 
purpose  !  What  have  double  meanings  and  lascivious  insipidities  to 
do  in  the  mouth  of  sucli  a  noble-minded  pei-sonV" 

"  Dear  friend,"  said  Wilhelm,  "even  here  1  cannot  yield  you  one 
iota.  In  these  singularities,  in  this  apparent  impropriety,  a  deep 
sense  is  hid.  Do  we  not  understand  from  the  very  first  what  the 
mind  of  a  good  soft-hearted  girl  was  busied  with  ?  Silently  she  lived 
within  herself,  yet  she  scarce  concealed  her  wishes,  her  longing  ;  the 
tones  of  desire  were  in  secret  ringing  through  her  soul  ;  and  how 
often  may  she  have  attempted,  like  an  unskillful  nurse,  to  lull  her 
senses  to  repose  with  songs  which  only  kept  them  more  awake '?  But 
at  last,  when  her  self-command  is  altogether  gone,  when  the  secrets 
of  her  heart  are  hovering  on  her  tongue,  that  tongue  betrays  her,  and 
in  the  innocence  of  insanity  she  solaces  herself,  unmindful  of  king  or 
queen,  with  the  echo  of  her  loose  and  well-beloved  songs  :  '  To-mor- 
row is  Saint  Valentine's  Day' ;  and  '  By  Gis  and  by  Saint  Charity.'  " 

He  had  not  finished  speaking,  when  all  at  once  an  extraordinary 
scene  took  place  before  him,  which  he  could  not  in  any  way  explain. 

Serlo  had  walked  once  or  twice  up  and  down  the  room  without 
evincing  any  special  object.  On  a  sudden,  he  step})ed  forward  to 
Aurelia's  dressing-table  ;  caught  hastily  at  something  that  was  l^'ing 
there,  and  hastened  to  the  door  with  his  booty.  No  sooner  did  Au- 
relia notice  this,  than  springing  up,  she  threw  herself  in  his  way  ; 
laid  hold  of  him  with  boundless  vehemence,  and  had  dexteniy 
enough  to  clutch  an  end  of  the  article  which  he  was  carrying  on. 
They  struggled  and  wrestled  with  great  obstinacy  ;  twisted  and  threw 
each  other  sharply  round  :  he  laughed  ;  she  exerted  all  her  strength ; 
and  as  Wilhelm  hastened  towards  them,  to  separate  and  soothe  them, 
Aurelia  sprang  aside  with  a  naked  dagger  in  her  hand,  while  Serlo 
cast  the  scabbard,  which  had  stayed  with  him,  angrily  upon  the  floor. 
Wilhelm  started  back  astonished  ;  and  his  dumb  wonder  seemed  to 
ask  the  cause  why  so  violent  a  strife,  about  so  strange  an  implement, 
had  tak(^n  j)lace  between  them. 

"  You  shall  judge  betwixt  us,"  said  the  brother.  "  What  has  she 
to  do  with  sharp  steel  ?  Do  but  look  at  it.  That  dagger  is  not  fit  for 
any  actress  :  point  like  a  needle's,  edge  like  a  razor's?  Wliat  good  is 
it'?  Passionate  as  she  is,  she  will  one  day  cliance  to  do  herself  a 
mischief.     I  have  a  heart's  hatred  at  such  singularities  :   a  serious 


BOOR  IV.  GMAPTm  XVL  198 

tiiouglit  of  that  sort  is  insane,  and  so  dangerous  a  plaything  is  not  in 
taste. " 

"I  liave  it  back  ! "  exclaimed  Aurelia,  and  held  the  polished  blade 
aloft  ;  "I  will  now  keep  my  faithful  friend  more  carefully.  Pardon 
me,"  she  cried,  and  kissed  the  steel,  "  that  I  have  so  neglected  tliee." 

Serlo  was  like  to  grow  seriously  angry.  "  Take  it  as  thou  wilt, 
brother,"  she  continued  ;  "  how  knowest  thou  but,  under  this  form, 
a  precious  talisman  may  have  been  given  me  ;  so  that,  in  extreme 
need,  I  may  find  help  and  counsel  in  it?  Must  all  be  hurtful  that 
looks  dangerous '{ " 

"Such  talk  without  a  meaning  might  drive  one  mad,"  said  Serlo, 
and  left  the  room  witli  suppressed  indignation.  Aurelia  put  the  dag- 
ger carefully  into  its  sheath,  and  placed  it  in  her  bosom.  "Let  us 
now  resume  the  conversation  which  our  foolish  brother  has  disturbed," 
said  she,  as  Wilhelm  was  beginning  to  put  questions  on  the  subject 
of  this  quarrel. 

"  I  must  admit  your  picture  of  Ophelia  to  be  just,"  continued  she  ; 
"I  cannot  now  misunderstand  the  object  of  the  poet  :  I  miist  pity, 
though,  as  you  paint  her,  I  shall  rather  pity  her  than  sympathize 
with  her.  But  allow  me  here  to  offer  a  remark,  which  in  these  few 
days  you  have  frequently  suggested  to  me.  I  observe  with  admi- 
ration the  correct,  keen,  penetrating  glance  with  Avhich  you  judge 
of  poetry,  especially  dranxatic  poetry  :  the  deepest  abysses  of  inven- 
tion are  not  hidden  from  you,  the  finest  touches  of  representation 
cannot  escape  you.  Without  ever  having  viewed  the  objects  in 
nature,  you  recognize  the  truth  of  their  images  :  there  seems,  as  it 
were,  a  presentiment  of  all  the  universe  to  lie  in  you,  which  by  the 
harmonious  touch  of  poetry  is  awakened  and  unfolded.  For  in 
truth,"  continued  she,  "  from  without,  you  receive  not  much  ;  I  have 
scarcely  seen  a  person  that  so  little  knew,  so  totally  misknew  the 
people  he  lived  with,  as  you  do.  x\llow  me  to  say  it  :  in  hearing  you 
expound  the  mysteries  of  Shakespeare,  one  would  think  you  had  just 
descended  from  a  synod  of  the  gods,  and  had  listened  there  while 
.they  were  taking  counsel  how  to  form  men  ;  in  seeing  you  transact 
with  your  fellov\'s,  I  could  imagine  you  to  be  the  first  large-born  child 
of  the  creation,  standing  agape,  and  gazing  with  .strange  wonderment 
and  edifying  good  nature,  at  lions  and  apes  and  sheep  and  elephants, 
and  true-heartedly  addressing  them  as  your  equals,  simply  because 
they  were  there,  and  in  motion  like  yourself." 

"The  feeling  of  my  ignorance  in  this  respect,"  said  Wilhelm, 
"  often  gives  me  pain  ;  and  I  should  thank  you,  worthy  friend,  if  you 
would  help  me  to  get  a  little  better  insight  into  life.  From  youth,  I' 
have  been  accustomed  to  direct  the  eyes  of  my  spirit  inward  rather 
than  outward  ;  and  hence  it  is  very  natural  that  to  a  certain  extent 
I  should  be  acquainted  with  man,  while  of  men  I  have  not  the  small- 
est knowledge." 

"In  truth,"  said  Aurelia,  "  I  at  first  suspected  that,  in  giving  such 
Meister — 7 


L. 


194  MEIBTEB'S  APPRENTIOESHIP. 

accounts  of  the  people  whom  you  sent  to  my  brother,  you  meant  to 
make  sport  of  us  ;  when  I  compared  your  letters  with  the  merits  of 
these  persons,  it  seemed  very  strange." 

Aurelia's  remarks,  well-founded  as  they  might  be,  and  willing  as 
our  friend  was  to  confess  himself  deficient  in  this  matter,  carried 
with  them  something  painful,  nay,  offensive  to  him  ;  so  that  he  grew 
silent,  ani  retired  within  himself,  partly  to  avoid  showing  any  irri- 
tated feeling,  partly  to  search  his  mind  for  the  truth  or  error  of  the 
charge. 

"  Let  not  this  alarm  you,"  said  Aurelia  :  "  the  light  of  the  under- 
standing it  is  always  in  our  power  to  reach  ;  but  this  fullness  of  the 
heart  no  one  can  give  us.  If  you  are  destined  for  jm  artist,  you  can- 
not long  enough  retain  the  dim-sightedness  and  innocence  of  which 
I  speak  ;  it  is  the  beautiful  hull  upon  the  young  bud  ;  woe  to  us  if 
we  are  forced  too  soon  to  burst  it  !  Surely  it  were  well,  if  we  never 
knew  what  the  people  are,  for  whom  we  work  and  study. 

"  Oh  !  I  too  was  in  that  happy  case,  when  I  first  betrod  the  stage, 
with  the  loftiest  opinion  of  myself  and  of  my  nation.  What  a  peo- 
ple, in  my  fancy,  were  the  Germans  ;  what  a  people  might  they  yet 
become  !  I  addressed  this  people  ;  raised  above  them  by  a  little 
joinery,  separated  from  them  by  a  row  of  lamps,  whose  glancing  and 
vapor  threw  an  indistinctness  over  everything  before  me.  How  wel- 
come was  the  tumult  of  applause,  which,  sounded  to  me  from  the 
crowd  ;  how  gratefully  did  I  accept  the  present,  offered  me  unani- 
mously by  so  many  hands  !  For  a  time  I  rocked  myself  in  these 
ideas  ;  I  affected  the  multitude,  aud  was  again  affected  by  them. 
With  my  public  I  was  on  the  fairest  footing  ;  I  imagined  that  I  felt  a 
perfect  harmony  betwixt  us,  and  that  on  each  occasion  I  beheld  be- 
fore me  the  best  and  noblest  of  the  land. 

'  •'  Unhappily  it  was  not  the  actress  alone  that  inspired  these  friends 
of  the  stage  with  interest  ;  they  likewise  -made  pretensions  to  the 
young  and  lively  girl.  They  gave  me  to  understand  in  terms  dis- 
tinct enough,  that  my  duty  was  not  only  to  excite  emotion  in  them, 
but  to  share  it  with  them  personally.  This  unluckily  was  not  my 
business  :  I  wished  to  elevate  their  minds  ;  but  to  what  they  called 
their  hearts  I  had  not  the  slightest  claim.  Yet  now  men  of  all  ranks, 
ages  and  characters,  by  turns  afflicted  me  with  their  addresses  ;  and 
it  did  seem  hard  that  I  could  not,  like  an  honest  young  woman,  shut 
my  door,  and  spare  myself  such  a  quantity  of  labor. 

"  The  men  appeared,  for  most  part,  much  the  same  as  I  had  been 
accustomed  to  about  my  aunt  ;  and  here  again  I  should  have  felt  dis- 
gusted with  them,  had  not  their  peculiarities  and  insipidities  amused 
me.  As  I  was  compelled  to  see  them,  in  the  theater,  in  open  places, 
in  my  house,  I  formed  the  project  of  spying  out  their  follies,  and  my 
brother  helped  me  with  alacrity  to  execute  it.  And  if  you  reflect 
that,  up  from  the  whisking  shopman  and  the  conceited  merchant's 
son,  to  the  polished  calculating  man  of  the  world,  the  bold  soldier 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XVL  195 

:uid  tlie  Impetuous  priuce,  all  in  succession  passed  in  review  before 
me,  each  in  his  way  endeavoring  to  found  his  small  romance,  you 
will  pardon  me  if  I  conceived  that  I  had  gained  some  acquaintance 
with  my  nation. 

"  The  fantastically-dizened  student  ;  the  awkward,  humbly-proud 
man  of  letters  ;  the  sleek-fed,  gouty  canon  ;  the  solemn,  heedful  man 
of  office  ;  the  heavy  country  baron  ;  the  smirking,  vapid  courtier  ; 
the  young  erring  parson  ;  the  cool,  as  well  as  the  quick  and  sharply- 
speculating  merchant  :  all  these  I  have  seen  in  motion  ;  and  I  swear 
to  you  that  there  were  few  among  them  fitted  to  inspire  me  even  with 
a  sentiment  of  toleration  :  on  the  contrary,  I  felt  it  altogether  irksome 
to  collect,  with  tedium  and  annoyance,  the  suffrages  of  fools ;  to 
pocket  those  applauses  in  detail,  which  in  their  accumulated  state 
had  so  delighted  me,  which  in  the  gross  I  had  appropriated  with  such 
pleasure. 

"  If  I  expected  a  rational  compliment  upon  my  acting  ;  if  I  hoped 
that  they  would  praise  an  author  whom  I  valued,  they  were  sure  to 
make  one  empty  observation  on  the  back  of  another,  and  to  name 
some  tasteless  piece  in  which  they  wished  to  see  me  play.  If  I  lis- 
tened in  their  company,  to  hear  if  some  noble,  brilliant,  witty  thought 
had  met  with  a  response  among  them,  and  would  reappear  from  some 
of  them  in  proper  season,  it  was  rare  that  I  could  catch  an  echo  of  it. 
An  error  that  had  happened,  a  mispronunciation,  a  provincialism  of 
some  actor  ;  such  were  the  weighty  points  by  which  they  held  fast, 
beyond  which  they  could  not  pass.  I  knew  not,  in  the  end,  to  what 
hand  I  should  turn  :  themselves  they  thought  too  clever  to  be  enter- 
tained ;  and  me  they  imagined  they  were  well  entertaining,  if  they 
romped  and  made  noise  enough  about  me.  I  began  very  cordially  to 
despise  them  all  ;  I  felt  as  if  the  whole  nation  had,  on  purpose, 
deputed  these  people  to  debase  it  in  my  eyes.  They  appeared  to  me  so 
clownish,  so  ill-bred,  so  wretchedly  instructed,  .so  void  of  pleasing 
qualities,  so  tasteless  ;  I  frequently  exclaimed :  No  German  can 
buckle  his  shoes,  till  he  has  learned  to  do  it  of  some  foreign  nation  ! 

"Tou  perceive  how  blind,  how  unjust  and  splenetic  I  was  ;  and 
the  longer  it  lasted,  my  spleen  increased.  I  might  have  killed  myself 
with  these  things  ;  but  I  fell  into  the  contrary  extreme  ;  I  married, 
or  rather  let  myself  be  married.  My  brother,  who  had  undertaken  to 
conduct  the  theater,  wished  much  to  have  a  helper.  His  choice 
lighted  on  a  young  man,  who  was  not  offensive  to  me  ;  who  wanted 
all  that  my  brother  had,  genius,  vivacity,  spirit  and  impetuosity  of 
mind  ;  but  who  also  in  return  had  all  that  my  brother  wanted,  love 
of  order,  diligence,  and  precious  gifts  in  housekeeping  and  the  man- 
agement of  money. 

"  He  became  my  husband,  I  know  not  how  ;  we  lived  together,  I 
do  not  well  know  why.  Enough,  our  affairs  went  prosperously  for- 
ward. We  drew  a  large  income  ;  of  this  my  brother's  activity  was 
the  cause.     We  lived  with  a  moderate  expenditure  ;  and  that  was 


196  MEI8TEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  merit  of  my  husband.  I  thought  no  more  about  world  or  nation. 
With  tlie  world  I  had  nothing  to  participate  ;  my  idea  of  the  nation 
had  faded  away.  When  I  entered  on  the  scene,  1  did  so  that  1  might 
subsist  ;  I  opened  my  lips  because  I  durst  not  continue  silent,  because 
I  had  come  out  to  speak. 

"  Yet  let  me  do  the  matter  justice.  I  had  altogether  given  myself 
up  to  the  disposal  of  my  brother.  His  objects  were  applause  and 
money  ;  for,  between  ourselves,  he  has  no  dislike  to  hear  his  own 
praises,  and  his  outlay  is  always  great.  1  no  longer  played  according 
to  my  own  feeling,  to  my  own  conviction  ;  but  as  he  directed  me  : 
and  if  I  did  it  to  his  satisfaction,  I  was  content.  He  steered  entirely 
by  the  caprices  of  the  public.  Money  flowed  upon  us  ;  he  could  live 
according  to  his  humor,  and  so  we  had  good  times  with  him. 

"  Thus  had  I  fallen  into  a  dull  handicraft  routine.  I  spun  out  my 
days  without  joy  or  sympathy.  My  marriage  was  childless,  and  not 
of  long  continuance.  My  husband  grew  sick  ;  his  strength  was  visi- 
bly decaying  ;  anxiety  for  him  interrupted  my  general  indifference. 
It  was  at  this  time  that  I  formed  an  acquaintance,  which  opened  a  new 
life  for  me  ;  a  new  and  quicker  one,  for  it  will  soon  be  done." 

She  kept  silent  for  a  time,  and  then  continued  :  "  All  at  once  my 
prattling  humor  falters  ;  I  have  not  the  courage  to  go  on.  Let  me 
rest  a  little.  You  shall  not  go,  till  you  have  learned  the  whole  extent 
of  my  misfortune.  Meanwhile,  call  in  Mignon,  and  ask  her  what  she 
wants." 

The  child  had  more  than  once  been  in  the  room,  while  Aurelia  and 
our  friend  were  talking.  As  they  spoke  lower  on  her  entrance,  she 
had  gilded  out  again,  and  was  now  sitting  quietly  in  the  hall,  and 
waiting.  Being  bid  return,  she  brought  a  book  with  her,  which  its 
form  and  binding  showed  to  be  a  small  geographical  atlas.  She  had 
seen  some  maps,  for  the  first  time  at  the  parson's  house,  with  great 
astonishment  ;  had  asked  him  many  questions,  and  informed  herself 
so  far  as  possible  about  them.  Her  desire  to  learn  seemed  much 
excited  b_v  this  new  branch  of  knowledge.  She  now  earnestly  re- 
quested Wilhelm  to  purchase  her  the  book  ;  saying  she  had  pawned 
her  large  silver  buckle  with  the  printseller  for  it,  and  wished  to  have 
back  the  pledge  to-morrow  morning,  as  this  evening  it  was  late.  Her 
re(iuest  was  granted  ;  and  she  then  began  repeating  several  things 
she  had  already  learned  ;  at  the  same  time,  in  her  own  way,  making 
many  very  strange  inquiries.  Here  again  one  might  observe,  that, 
with  a  mighty  effort,  she  could  comprehend  but  little  and  laboriously. 
So  likewise  was  it  with  her  writing,  at  which  she  still  kept  busied. 
She  yet  spoke  very  broken  German  ;  it  was  only  when  she  opened 
her  mouth  to  sing,  when  she  touched  her  cithern,  that  she  seemed  to 
be  employing  an  organ  by  which,  in  some  degree,  the  workings  of  her 
mind  could  be  disclosed  and  communicated. 

Since  we  are  at  present  on  the  subject,  we  may  also  mention  the 
perplexity   which  Wilhelm   had   of  late  experienced  from  certain 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XVL  197 

parts  of  lier  procedure.  VVheu  she  came  or  went,  wished  him  good- 
morning  or  goodnight,  she chisped  him  so  firmly  in  her  arms,  and 
kissed  him  with  such  ardor,  that  often  the  violence  of  this  expand- 
ing nature  gave  him  serious  fears.  The  spasmodic  vivacity  of  her 
demeanor  seemed  daily  to  increase  ;  her  whole  being  moved  in  a  rest- 
less stillness.  She  would  never  be  without  some  piece  of  packthread 
to  twist  in  her  hands  ;  some  napkin  to  tie  in  knots  ;  some  pai)er  or 
wood  to  chew.  All  her  sports  seemed  but  the  channels  which  drained 
off  some  inward  violent  commotion.  The  only  thing  that  seemed  to 
cause  her  any  cheerfulness  was  being  near  the  boy  Felix,  with  whom 
she  could  go  on  in  a  very  dainty  manner. 

Aurelia,  after  a  little  rest,  being  now  ready  to  explain  to  her  friend 
a  matter  which  lay  very  near  her  heart,  grew  impatient  at  the  little 
girl's  delay,  and  signified  that  she  must  go  ;  a  hint,  however,  which  the 
latter  did  not  take  ;  and  at  last,  when  nothing  else  would  do,  they  sent 
her  off  expressly  and  against  her  will. 

"  Now  or  never,"  said  Aurelia,  "must  I  tell  you  the  remainder  of 
my  story.  Were  my  tenderly-beloved  and  unjust  friend  but  a  few 
miles  distant,  I  would  say  to  you  :  '  Mount  on  horseback,  seek  by 
some  means  to  get  acquainted  with  him  ;  on  returning  you  will  cer- 
tainly forgive  me,  and  pity  me  with  all  your  heart. '  As  it  is,  I  can 
only  tell  you  with  words  how  amiable  he  was,  and  how  much  1  loved 
him. 

'•  It  was  at  the  critical  season,  when  care  for  tlie  illness  of  my  hus- 
band had  depressed  my  spirits,  that  I  first  became  acquainted  with 
this  stranger.  He  had  just  returned  from  America,  where,  in  com- 
pany with  some  Frenchmen,  he  had  served  with  much  distinction 
under  the  colors  of  the  United  States. 

'  He  addressed  me  with  an  easy  dignity,  a  frank  kindliness  ;  he 
spoke  about  myself,  my  state,  my  acting,  like  an  old  acquaintance,  so 
affectionately  and  distinctly,  that  now  for  the  first  time  I  enjoyed  the 
pleasure  of  perceiving  my  existence  reflected  in  the  being  of  another. 
His  judgments  were  just,  though  not  severe  ;  penetrating,  yet  not 
void  of  love.  He  showed  no  harshness  ;  his  pleasantry  was  courte- 
ous, with  all  his  humor.  He  seemed  accustomed  to  success  with 
women  ;  this  excited  my  attention  :  he  was  never  in  the  least  impor- 
tunate or  flattering  ;  this  \>\\i  me  off  my  guard. 

"  In  the  town  he  had  intercourse  with  few  ;  he  was  often  on  horse 
back,  visiting  his  many  friends  in  the  neighborhood,  and  managing 
the  business  of  his  house.  On  returning,  he  would  frequently  alight 
at  my  apartments  ;  he  treated  my  ever-ailing  husband  with  warm 
attention  ;  he  procured  him  mitigation  of  his  sickness  by  a  good  jihy- 
sician.  And  taking  part  in  all  that  interested  me,  he  allowed  me  to 
take  part  in  all  that  interested  him.  He  told  me  the  history  of  his 
campaigns  ;  lie  spoke  of  his  invincible  attachment  to  military  life,  of 
his  family  relations,  of  his  present  business.  He  kept  no  secret  from 
jne  ;  he  displayed  to  me  hi§  inmost  thoughts,  allowed  me  to  behold 


198  MEISTER  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  most  secret  corners  of  liis  soul  :  I  became  acquainted  with  his 
passions  and  his  capabilities.  It  was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  1 
enjoyed  a  cordial,  intellectual  intercourse  with  any  living  creature.  I 
was  attracted  by  him,  borne  along  by  him,  before  I  thought  about 
inquiring  how  it  stood  with  me. 

"Meanwhile  I  lost  my  husband,  nearly  just  as  I  had  taken  him. 
The  burden  of  theatrical  afEairs  now  fell  entirely  on  me.  My  brother, 
not  to  be  surpassed  upon  the  stage,  was  never  good  for  anything  in  eco- 
nomical concerns  :  I  took  the  charge  of  all ;  at  the  samie  time  study- 
ing my  parts  with  greater  diligence  than  ever.  I  again  played  as  of 
old  ;  nay,  with  new  life,  with  quite  another  force.  It  was  by  reason 
of  my  friend,  it  was  on  his  account  that  I  did  so  ;  yet  my  success  was 
not  always  best  when  I  knew  him  to  be  present.  Once  or  twice  he 
listened  to  me  unobserved  ;  and  how  pleasantly  his  unexpected  ap- 
plause surprised  me  you  may  conceive. 

"Certainly  I  am  a  strange  creature.  In  every  part  I  played,  it 
seemed  as  if  I  had  been  speaking  it  in  praise  of  him  ;  for  that  was 
the  temper  of  my  heart,  the  words  might  be  anything  they  pleased. 
Did  I  understand  him  to  be  present  in  the  audience,  I  durst  not  ven- 
ture to  speak  out  with  all  my  force  ;  ju.st  as  I  would  not  press  my 
love  or  praise  on  him  to  his  face  :  was  he  absent,  I  had  then  free 
scope  ;  I  did  my  best,  witli  a  certain  peacefuluess,  with  a  contentment 
not  to  be  described.  Applause  once  more  delighted  me  ;  and  when  I 
charmed  the  people,  I  longed  to  call  down  among  them  :  '  This  you 
owe  to  him  1 ' 

"  Yes  my  relation  to  the  public,  to  the  nation,  had  been  altered  by 
a  wonder.  On  a  sudden  they  again  appeared  to  me  in  the  most 
favorable  light  ;  I  felt  astonished  at  my  former  blindness. 

"How  foolish,  said  I  often  to  myself,  was  it  to  revile  a  nation  ; 
foolish,  simply  since  it  was  a  nation.  Is  it  necessary,  is  it  possible, 
that  individual  men  should  generally  interest  us  much  ?  Not  at  all ! 
The  only  question  is,  whether  in  the  great  mass  there  exists  a  suffi- 
cient quantity  of  talent,  force  and  capability,  which  lucky  circum- 
stances may  develop,  which  men  of  lofty  minds  may  direct  upon  a 
common  object.  I  now  rejoiced  in  discovering  so  little  prominent 
originality  among  my  countrymen  ;  I  rejoiced  that  they  disdained  not 
to  accept  of  guidance  from  without ;  I  rejoiced  that  they  had  found  a 
leader. 

"  Lothario — allow  me  to  designate  my  friend  by  this  his  first  name 
which  I  loved — Lothario  had  always  presented  the  Germans  to  my 
mind  on  the  side  of  valor  ;  and  shown  me,  that  when  well  commanded, 
there  was  no  braver  nation  on  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  and  I  felt  ashamed 
that  I  had  never  thought  of  this  the  first  quality  of  a  people.  Histoiy 
was  known  to  him  ;  he  was  in  connection  and  correspondence  with 
the  most  distinguished  persons  of  the  age.  Young  as  he  was,  his 
eye  was  open  to  the  budding  youthhood  of  his  native  country  ;  to  the 
silent  labors  of  active  and  busy  men  in  so  naany  provinces  of  art.     H^ 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XVII.  199 

afforded  me  a  glimpse  of  Germany  ;  what  it  was,  and  what  it  might 
be  ;  and  I  blushed  at  having  formed  my  judgment  of  a  nation  from 
the  motley  crowd,  that  press  themselves  into  the  wardrobe  of  a 
theater.  He  made  me  look  upon  it  as  a  duty  that  I  too,  in  my  own 
department,  should  be  true,  spirited,  enlivening.  1  now  felt  as  if 
inspired,  every  time  I  stepped  upon  the  boards.  Mediocre  passages 
grew  golden  in  my  mouth  ;  had  any  poet  been  at  hand  to  support  me 
adequately,  I  might  have  produced  the  most  astonishing  effects. 

"  So  lived  the  young  widow  for  a  series  of  months.  He  could  not 
want  me  ;  and  I  felt  exceedingly  unhappy  when  he  stayed  away.  He 
showed  me  the  letters  he  received  from  his  relations,  from  his  amiable 
sister.  He  took  an  interest  in  the  smalle.st  circumstances  that  con- 
cerned me  ;  more  complete,  more  intimate  no  union  ever  was  than 
ours.  The  name  of  love  was  not  mentioned.  He  went  and  came, 
came  and  went — And  now,  my  friend,  it  is  high  time  that  you  too 
should  go." 


CHAPTER  XVH. 


Welhelm  could  put  off  no  longer  the  visiting  of  his  commercial 
friends.  He  proceeded  to  their  place  with  some  anxiety ;  knowing 
he  should  there  find  letters  from  his  people.  He  dreaded  the  reproofs 
which  these  would  of  course  contain  ;  it  seemed  likely  also  that  notice 
had  been  given  to  his  trading  correspondents,  concerning  the  per- 
plexities and  fears  which  his  late  silence  had  occasioned.  After  such 
a  series  of  knightly  adventures,  he  recoiled  from  the  school-boy  aspect 
in  which  he  must  appear  ;  he  proposed  within  his  mind  to  act  with 
an  air  of  sternneiis  and  defiance,  and  thus  hide  his  embarrassment. 

To  his  great  wonder  and  contentment,  however,  all  went  off  very 
easily  and  well.  In  the  vast,  stirring,  busy  counting-room,  the  men 
had  scarcely  time  to  seek  him  out  his  packet  ;  his  delay  was  but 
alluded  to  in  passing.  And  on  opening  the  letters  of  his  father  and 
his  friend  Werner,  he  found  them  all  of  very  innocent  contents.  His 
father,  in  hopes  of  an  extensive  journal,  the  keeping  of  which  h^ 
had  strongly  recommended  to  his  son  at  parting,  giving  him  also  a 
tabular  scheme  for  that  purpose,  seemed  pretty  well  pacified  about 
the  silence  of  the  first  period  ;  complaining  only  of  a  certain  enigmat- 
ical obscurity  in  the  last  and  only  letter,  dispatched,  as  we  have  seen, 
from  the  castle  of  the  count.  Werner  joked  in  his  way  :  told  merry 
anecdotes,  facetious  burgh  news  ;  and  requested  intelligence  of  friends 
and  acquaintances,  whom  Wilhelm  in  the  large  trading  city  would 
now  meet  with  in  great  numbers.  Our  friend,  extremely  pleased  at 
getting  off  so  well,  answered  without  loss  of  a  moment,  in  some  very 
cheerful  letters  :  promising  his  father  a  copious  journal  of  his  travels, 


200  M BISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

with  all  the  required  geographical,  statistical  and  mercantile  remarks. 
He  had  seen  much  on  his  journey,  he  said  ;  and  hoped  to  make  a  toler- 
ably large  manuscript  out  of  these  materials.  He  did  not  observe, 
that  he  Avas  almost  in  the  same  case  ashe  had  once  experienced  be- 
fore, when  he  assembled  an  audience  and  lit  his  lamps  to  represent  a 
play,  which  was  not  written,  still  less  got  by  heart.  Accordingly,  so 
•  soon  as  he  commenced  the  actual  work  of  composition,  he  became 
aware  that  he  had  much  to  say  about  emotions  and  thoughts,  and 
many  experiences  of  the  heart  and  spirit  ;  but  not  a  word  concerning 
outward  objects,  on  which,  as  he  now  discovered,  he  had  not  bestowed 
the  least  attention. 

■  In  this  embarrassment,  the  acquisitions  of  his  friend  Laertes  came 
very  seasonably  to  his  aid.  Custom  had  united  these  young  people, 
unlike  one  another  as  they  were  ;  and  Laertes,  with  all  his  failings  and 
singularities,  was  actually  an  interesting  man.  Endowed  with  warm 
and  pleasurable  senses,  he  might  have  reached  old  age  without  re- 
flecting for  a  moment  on  his  situation.  But  his  ill  fortune  and  his 
sickness  had  robbed  him  of  the  pure  feelings  of  youth  ;  and  opened 
for  him  instead  of  it  a  view  into  the  trausitoriness,  the  discontinuity 
of  man's  existence.  Hence  had  arisen  a  humorous,  flighty,  rhapsodi- 
cal way  of  thinlcing  about  all  thingti,  or  rather  of  uttering  the  imme- 
diate impressions  they  produced  on  him.  He  did  not  like  to  be  alone  ; 
he  strolled  about  all  the  coffee-houses  and  tables-d'fiote  ;  and  when 
he  did  stay  at  home,  books  of  travel  were  his  favorite,  nay,  his  only 
kind  of  reading.  Having  lately  found  a  large  circulating  library,  he 
had  been  enabled  to  content  his  taste  in  this  res]5ect  to  the  full  ;  and 
ere  long  half  the  world  was  figuring  in  his  faithful  memory. 

It  was  easy  for  him,  therefore,  to  speak  comfort  to  his  friend,  when 
the  latter  had  disclosed  his  utter  lack  of  matter  for  the  narrative  so 
solemnly  promised  by  him.  "  Now  is  the  time  for  a  stroke  of  art," 
said  Laertes,  "that  shall  have  no  fellow  ! 

"Has  not  Germany  been  traveled  over,  cruised  over,  walked,  crept 
and  flown  over,  repeatedly  from  end  to  end  ?  And  has  not  every  CJer- 
man  traveler  the  royal  privilege  of  drawing  from  the  public  a  repay- 
ment of  the  great  or  small  expenses  he  may  have  incurred  while 
traveling?  Give  me  your  route  previous  to  our  meeting- ;  the  rest  1 
know  already.  I  will  find  you  helps  and  sources  of  information  ;  of 
miles  that  were  never  measured,  populations  that  were  never  counted, 
we  shall  give  them  plenty.  The  I'evenues  of  provinces  we  will  take 
from  almanacs  and  tables,  which,  as  all  men  know,  are  the  most  au- 
thentic documents.  On  these  we  will  ground  oui'  political  discus- 
sions ;  we  shall  not  fail  in  side  glances  at  the  ruling  powers.  One  or 
two  princes  we  will  paint  as  true  fathers  of  their  countiy,  that  we 
may  gain  more  ready  credence  in  our  allegations  against  otliers.  If 
we  do  not  travel  through  the  residence  of  any  noteil  man,  we  shall 
take  care  to  meet  such  persons  at  the  inn,  and  make  them  utter  the 
most  foolish  stuff  to  us.    Purtifn.larly,  let  us  not  forget  to  insert,  with 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XVUI.  201 

all  its  graces  and  sentiments,  some  love  story  with  a  pastoral  bar- 
maid. 1  tell  you  it  shall  be  a  composition,  which  will  not  only  fill 
father  and  mother  with  delight,  but  which  booksellers  themselves 
shall  gladly  pay  you  current  money  for." 

They  went  accordingly  to  work  ;  and  both  of  them  found  pleasure 
in  their  lal)or.  Wilhelm,  in  the  meantitne  frequenting  the  play  at 
night,  and  conversing  with  Serlo  and  Aurelia  by  day,  experienced  the 
greatest  satisfaction  ;  and  was  daily  more  and  more  expanding  his 
ideas,  which  had  been  too  long  revolving  in  the  same  narrow  circle. 


CHAPTER  XVm. 


It  was  not  without  deep  interest  that  he  became  acquainted  with 
the  history  of  Serlo's  career.  Piecemeal  he  learned  it  ;  for  it  was 
not  the  fashion  of  that  extraordinary  man  to  be  confidential,  or  to 
speak  of  anything  connectively.  He  had  been,  one  may  say,  born  and 
suckled  in  a  theater.  While  yet  literally  an  infant,  he  had  been  pro- 
duced upon  the  stage  to  move  spectators  merely  by  his  presence  ;  for 
authors  even  then  were  acquainted  with  this  natural  and  very 
guiltless  mode  of  doing  so.  Thus  his  first  "  Father  !  "  or  "  Mother  !  " 
in  favorite  pieces,  procured  him  approbation,  before  he  understood 
what  was  meant  by  that  clapping  of  the  hands.  In  the  character  of 
Cupid  he  more  than  once  descended,  with  terror,  in  his  flying-gear  ; 
as  Harlequin  he  used  to  issue  from  the  egg  ;  and  as  a  little  chimney- 
sweep to  play  the  sharpest  tricks. 

Unhappily,  the  plaudits  of  these  glancing  nights  were  too  bitterly 
repaid  by  sufferings  in  the  intervening  seasons.  His  father  was  per- 
suaded that  the  minds  of  children  could  be  kept  awake  and  steadfast 
by  no  other  means  than  blows  ;  hence,  in  the  studying  of  any  part, 
he  used  to  thrash  him  at  stated  periods  ;  not  because  the  boj-  was 
awkward,  but  that  he  might  become  more  certainly  and  constantly 
expert.  It  was  thus  that  in  former  times,  while  putting  down  a  land- 
mark, people  were  accustomed  to  bestow  a  hearty  drubbing  on  the 
children  who  had  followed  them  ;  and  these,  it  svas  supposed,  would 
recollect  the  place  exactly  to  the  latest  day  of  their  lives.  Serlo 
waxed  in  stature,  and  showed  the  finest  capabilities  of  spirit  and  of 
body  ;  in  particitlar  an  admirable  pliancy  at  once  in  his  thoughts, 
looks,  movements  and  gestures.  His  gift  of  imitation  was  beyond 
belief.  When  still  a  boy  he  could  mimic  persons,  so  that  you  would 
think  you  saw  them  ;  though  in  form,  age  and  disposition,  tliey  might 
be  entirely  unlike  liim,  and  unlike  each  other.  Nor,  with  all  this, 
did  he  want  the  knack  of  suiting  liimself  to  his  circumstances,  and 
picking  oat  his  way  in  life.  Accordingly,  so  soon  as  he  had  grown 
in  some  degree  acquainted  with  his  strength,  he  very  naturally  eloped 


202  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

from  his  father ;  who,  as  the  boy's  understanding  and  dexterity 
increased,  still  thought  it  needful  to  forward  their  perfection  by  the 
harshest  treatment. 

Happy  was  the  wild  boy,  now  roaming  free  about  the  world,  where 
his  feats  of  waggery  never  failed  to  secure  him  a  good  reception. 
His  lucky  star  first  led  him  in  the  Christmas  season  to  a  cloister, 
where  the  friar,  whose  business  it  had  been  to  arrange  processions, 
and  to  entertain  the  Christian  community  by  spiritual  masquerades, 
having  just  died,  Serlo  was  welcomed  as  a  helping  angel.  On  the 
instant  he  took  up  the  part  of  Gabriel  in  the  Annunciation  ;  and  did 
not  by  any  means  displease  the  pretty  girl,  who,  acting  the  Virgin, 
very  gracefully  received  his  most  obliging  kiss,  with  external  hu- 
mility and  inward  pride.  In  their  mysteries  he  continued  to  perform 
the  most  important  parts  :  and  thought  himself  no  slender  personage, 
when  at  last,  in  the  character  of  Martyr,  he  was  mocked  of  the  world, 
and  beaten,  and  fixed  upon  the  cross. 

Some  pagan  soldiers  had,  on  this  occasion,  played  their  parts  a 
little  too  naturally.  To  be  avenged  on  these  heathen  in  the  proper 
style,  he  took  care  at  the  day  of  judgment  to  have  them  decked  out 
in  gaudy  clothes  as  emperors  and  kings  ;  and  at  the  moment  when 
they,  exceedingly  contented  with  their  situation,  were  about  to  take 
precedence  of  the  rest  in  heaven  as  they  had  done  on  earth,  he  on  a 
sudden  rushed  upon  them  in  the  shape  of  the  devil ;  and,  to  the 
cordial  edification  of  all  the  beggars  and  spectators,  having  thoroughly 
curried  them  with  his  oven-fork,  he  pushed  them  without  mercy  back 
into  the  chasm,  where,  in  the  midst  of  waving  flame,  they  met  with 
the  sorriest  welcome. 

He  was  acute  enough,  however,  to  perceive  that  these  crowned 
heads  might  feel  offended  at  such  bold  procedure  ;  and  perhaps  for- 
get the  reverence  due  to  his  privileged  office  of  accuser  and  turnkey. 
So  in  all  silence,  before  the  millennium  commenced,  he  withdrew, 
and  betook  him  to  a  neighboring  town.  Here  a  society  of  persons, 
denominated  Children  of  Joy,  received  him  with  open  arms.  They 
were  a  set  of  clever,  strong-headed,  lively  geniuses,  who  saw  well 
enough  that  the  sum  of  our  existence,  divided  by  reason,  never  gives 
an  integer  number,  but  tliat  a  surprising  fraction  is  always  left  be- 
hind. At  stated  times,  to  get  rid  of  this  fraction,  which  impedes,  and 
if  it  is  diffused  over  all  the  mass  of  our  conduct,  endangers  us,  was 
the  object  of  the  Children  of  Joy.  For  one  day  a- week  each  of  them 
in  succession  was  a  fool  on  purpose  ;  and  during  this,  he  in  his  turn 
exhibited  to  ridicule,  in  allegorical  representations,  whatever  folly  lie 
had  noticed  in  himself  or  the  rest,  throughout  the  other  six.  This 
practice  might  be  somewhat  ruder  than  that  constant  training,  in  the 
course  of  which  a  man  of  ordinary  morals  is  accustomed  to  observe, 
to  warn,  to  punish  himself  daily  ;  but  it  was  also  merrier  and  surer. 
For  as  no  Child  of  Joy  concealed  his  bosom  folly,  so  he  and  those 
about  him  held  it  for  simply  what  it  was  :  whereas,  on  the  other  plan, 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XVIH.  203 

by  the  help  of  self-deception,  this  same  bosom-folly  often  gains  the 
head  authority  within,  and  binds  down  reason  to  a  secret  servitude, 
at  the  very  time  when  reason  fondly  hopes  that  she  has  long  since 
chased  it  out  of  doors.  The  mask  of  folly  circulated  round  in  this 
society  ;  and  each  member  was  allowed,  in  his  particular  day,  to  deco- 
rate and  characterize  it  with  his  own  attributes  or  those  of  others. 
At  the  time  of  carnival,  they  assumed  the  greatest  freedon,  vieing 
with  the  clergy  in  attempts  to  instruct  and  entertain  the  multitude. 
Their  solemn  figurative  processions  of  virtues  and  vices,  arts  and 
sciences,  quarters  of  the  world,  and  seasons  of  the  year,  bodied  forth 
a  number  of  conceptions,  and  gave  images  of  many  distant  objects  to 
the  people,  and  hence  were  not  without  tlieir  use  ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  mummeries  of  the  priesthood  tended  but  to  strengthen 
a  tasteless  superstition,  already  strong  enough. 

Here  again  young  Serlo  was  altogether  in  his  element.  Invention, 
in  its  strictest  sense,  it  is  true,  he  had  not  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  had  the  most  consummate  skill  in  employing  what  he  found  before 
him  ;  in  ordering  it,  and  shadowing  it  forth.  His  roguish  turns,  his 
gift  of  mimicry,  his  biting  wit,  which  at  least  one  day  weekly  he 
might  use  with  entire  freedom,  even  against  his  benefactors,  made 
him  precious,  or  rather  indispensable,  to  the  whole  society. 

Yet  his  restless  mind  soon  drove  him  from  this  favorable  scene  to 
other  quarters  of  his  country,  where  other  means  of  instruction 
awaited  him.  He  came  into  the  polished  but  also  barren  part  of 
Germany,  where,  in  worshiping  the  good  and  the  beautiful,  there  is, 
indeed,  no  want  of  truth,  but  frequently  a  grievous  want  of  spirit. 
His  masks  would  here  do  nothing  for  him  ;  he  had  now  to  aim  at 
working  on  the  heart  and  mind.  For  short  periods  he  attached  him- 
self to  small  or  to  extensive  companies  of  actors  ;  and  marked,  on  these 
occasions,  what  were  the  distinctive  properties  both  of  the  pieces  and 
the  players.  The  monotony  which  then  reigned  on  the  German  thea- 
ter, the  mawkish  sound  and  cadence  of  their  Alexandrines,  the  flat 
and  yet  distorted  dialogue,  the  shallowness  and  commonness  of  these 
undisguised  preachers  of  morality,  he  was  not  long  in  comprehend- 
ing ;  or  in  seizing,  at  the  same  time,  what  little  there  was  that  moved 
and  pleased. 

Not  only  single  parts  in  the  current  pieces,  but  the  pieces  them- 
selves remained  easily  and  wholly  in  his  memory  ;  and  along  with 
them,  the  special  tone  of  any  player  who  had  represented  them  with 
approbation.  At  length,  jn  the  course  of  his  rambles,  his  money 
being  altogether  done,  the  project  struck  him  of  acting  entire  pieces 
by  himself,  especially  in  villages  and  noblemen's  houses  ;  an'd  thus 
in  all  places  making  sure,  at  least,  of  entertainment  and  lodging.  In 
any  tavern,  any  room,  or  any  garden,  he  would  accordingly  at  once 
set  up  his  theater  :  with  a  roguish  seriousness  and  a  show  of  enthu 
.siasm,  he  would  contrive  to  gain  the  imaginations  of  his  audience  ;  to 
deceive  their  senses,  and  before  their  eyes  to  make  an  old  press  into  a 


204  MEISTER'S  APPRENTIGESBIP. 

tower,  or  a  fan  into  a  dagger.  His  youtliful  warmth  supplied  tte 
place  of  deep  feeling  ;  his  vehemence  seemed  strength,  and  his  flat- 
tery tenderness.  Such  of  the  spectators  as  already  knew  a  theater, 
he  put  in  mind  of  all  they  had  seen  and  heard  ;  in  the  rest  he  awak- 
ened a  presentiment  of  something  wonderful,  and  a  wish  to  be  more 
acquainted  with  it.  What  produced  aia  etfect  in  one  place  he  did  not 
fail  to  repeat  in  others  ;  and  his  mind  overflowed  with  a  wicked  pleas- 
ure when,  by  the  same  means,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  he  could 
make  gulls  of  all  the  world. 

His  spirit  was  lively,  brisk  and  unimpeded  ;  by  frequently  repeat- 
ing parts  and  pieces  he  improved  very  fast.  Ere  long  he  could  recite 
and  play  with  more  conformity  to  the  sense,  than  the  models  whom 
he  had  "at  first  imitated.  Proceeding  thus,  he  arrived  by  degrees  at 
playing  naturally,  though  he  did  not  cease  to  feign.  He  seemed 
transported,  yet  he  lay  in  wait  for  the  effect  ;  and  his  greatest  pride 
was  in  movii>g,  by  successive  touches,  the  passions  of  men.  The  mad 
trade  he  drove  did  itself  soon  force  him  to  proceed  with  a  certain  mod- 
eration ;  and  thus,  partly  by  constraint,  partly  by  instinct,  he  learned 
the  art  of  which  so  few  players  seem  to  have  a  notion,  the  art  of 
being  frugal  in  the  use  of  voice  and  gestures. 

Thus  did  he  contrive  to  tame,  and  to  inspire  with  interest  for  him, 
even  rude  and  unfriendly  men.  Being  always  contented  with  food 
and  shelter,  thankfully  accepting  presents  of  any  kind  as  readily  as 
money  ;  which  latter,  when  he  reckoned  that  he  had  enough  of  it, 
he  frequently  declined — he  became  a  general  favorite  ;  was  sent 
about  from  one  to  another  with  recommendatory  letters  ;  and  thus  he 
wandered  many  a  day  from  castle  to  castle,  exciting  much  festivity, 
enjoying  much,  and  meeting  in  his  travels  with  the  most  agreeable 
and  curious  adventures. 

With  such  inward  coldness  of  temper,  he  could  not  properly  be  said 
to  love  any  one  ;  with  such  clearness  of  \nsion,  he  could  respect  no 
one.  In  fact,  he  never  looked  beyond  the  external  peculiarities  of 
men,  and  he  merely  carried  their  characters  in  his  mimical  collection. 
Yet  withal  his  selfisliness  was  keenly  wounded,  if  he  did  not  please 
every  one,  and  call  forth  universal  applause.  How  this  might  be 
attained,  he  had  studied  in  the  course  of  time  so  accurately,  and  so 
sharpened  his  sense  of  the  matter,  that  not  only  on  the  stage,  but  also 
in  common  life,  he  no  longer  could  do  otherwise  than  flatter  and 
deceive.  And  thus  did  his  disposition,  his  talent  and  his  way  of  life, 
work  reciprocally  on  each  other,  till  by  this  means  he  had  imperce])- 
tibly  been  formed  into  a  perfect  actor.  Nay,  l)y  a  mode  of  action  and 
reaction,  which  is  quite  natural,  though  it  seems  parad(«ical,  his 
recitation,  declamation  and  gesture,  improved  by  critical  dLscernment 
and  practice,  to  a  high  degree  of  truth,  ease  and  frankness  ;  while, 
in  his  life  and  intercourse  with  men,  he  seemed  to  grow  continually 
more  secret,  artful,  or  even  hypocritical  and  constrained. 

Of  his  fortunes  and  adventures  we  perhaps  shall  speak  in  another 


^ook  IV.  csapter  XIX.  205 

place  ;  it  is  enough  to  remark  at  present,  that  in  later  times,  when 
lie  had  become  a  man  of  circumstance,  in  possession  of  a  distinct 
reputation,  and  of  a  very  good  though  not  entirely  secure  employment 
and  rank,  he  was  wont,  in  conversation,  partly  in  the  way  of  irony, 
partly  of  mockery,  in  a  delicate  style,  to  act  the  sophist,  and  thus  to 
destroy  almost  all  serious  discussion.  This  kind  of  speech  he  seemed 
peculiarly  fond  of  using  towards  Wilhelm  ;  particularly  when  the 
latter  took  a  fancy,  as  often  happened,  for  introducing  any  of  his 
general  and  theoretical  disquisitions.  Yet  still  they  liked  well  to  be 
together  ;  with  such  different  modes  of  thinking,  the  conversation 
could  not  fail  to  be  lively.  Wilhelm  always  wished  to  deduce  every- 
thing from  abstract  ideas  which  he  had  arrived  at  ;  he  wanted  to 
have  art  viewed  in  all  its  connections  as  a  whole.  He  wanted  to  pro- 
mulgate and  fix  down  universal  laws  ;  to  settle  what  was  right, 
beautiful  and  good  :  in  short,  he  treated  all  things  in  a  serious  man- 
ner. Serlo,  on  the  other  hand,  took  up  the  matter  very  lightly  : 
never  answering  directly  to  any  question,  he  would  contrive  by  some 
anecdote  or  laughable  turn,  to  give  the  finest  and  most  satisfactory 
illustrations  ;  and  thus  to  instruct  his  audience  while  he  made  them 
merry. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


While  our  friend  was  in  this  way  living  very  happily,  Melina  and 
the  rest  were  in  quite  a  different  case.  Wilhelm  they  haunted  like 
evil  spirits  ;  and  not  only  by  iheir  presence,  but  frequently  by  rueful 
faces  and  bitter  words,  they  caused  him  many  a  sorry  moment.  Serlo 
had  not  admitted  them  to  the  most  trifling  part,  far  less  held  out  to 
them  any  hope  of  a  permanent  engagement  ;  and  yet  he  had  contrived, 
by  degrees,  to  get  acquainted  with  the  capabilities  of  every  one  of 
them.  Whenever  any  actors  were  assembled  in  leisure  hours  about 
him,  he  was  wont  to  make  them  read,  and  frequently  to  read  along 
with  them.  On  such  occasions,  he  took  plays  which  were  by  and  by 
to  be  acted,  which  for  a  long  time  had  remained  unacted  ;  and  gen- 
erally by  portions.  In  like  manner,  after  any  first  representation,  he 
caused  such  passages  to  be  repeated  as  he  had  anything  to  say  upon  ; 
by  which  means  he  sharpened  the  discernment  of  his  actors,  and 
strengthened  their  certainty  of  hitting  the  proper  point.  And  as  a 
person  of  slender  but  correct  understanding  may  produce  more  agree- 
able effect  on  others,  than  a  perplexed  and  unpurified  genius,  he  would 
frequently  exalt  men  of  mediocre  talents,  by  the  clear  views  which 
he  imperceptibly  afforded  them,  to  a  wonderful  extent  of  power. 
Nor  was  it  an  unimportant  item  in  his  scheme,  that  he  likewise  had 
poems  read  before  him  in  their  meetings  ;  for  by  these  he  nourished 
in  his  people  the  feeling  of  that  charm  which  a  well-pronounced 


306  MEISTEM'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

rhythm  is  calculated  to  awaken  in  the  soul  ;  whereas  in  other  com- 
panies, those  prose  compositions  were  already  getting  introduced,  for 
which  any  tyro  was  adequate. 

On  occasions  such  as  these,  he  had  contrived  to  make  himself 
acquainted  with  the  new-come  players  ;  he  had  decided  what  they 
were,  and  what  they  might  be  ;  and  silently  made  up  his  mind  to 
take  advantage  of  their  talents,  in  a  revolution  which  was  now 
threatening  his  own  company;  For  a  while  he  let  the  matter  rest ; 
declined  every  one  of  Wilhelm's  intercessions  for  his  comrades,  with 
a  shrug  of  tlie  shoulders  ;  till  at  last  he  saw  his  time,  and  altogether 
unexpectedly  made  the  proposal  to  our  friend,  "  that  he  himself 
should  come  upon  the  stage  ;  that  on  this  condition,  the  others  too 
might  be  admitted. " 

"These  people  must  not  be  so  useless  as  you  formerly  described 
them,"  ausAvered  Wilhelm,  "  if  they  can  now  be  all  received  at  once  ; 
and  I  suppose  their  talents  would  remain  the  same  without  me  as 
with  me." 

Under  seal  of  secrecy,  Serlo  hereupon  explained  its  situation  :  how 
his  first  actor  was  giving  hints  about  a  rise  of  salary  at  the  renewal 
of  their  contract ;  how  he  himself  did  not  incline  conceding  this,  the 
rather  as  the  individual  in  question  was  no  longer  in  such  favor  with 
the  public  ;  how,  if  he  dismissed  him,  a  whole  train  would  follow ; 
whereby,  it  was  true,  his  company  would  lose  some  good,  but  like- 
wise some  indifferent  actors.  He  then  showed  Wilhelm  what  he 
hoped  to  gain  in  him,  in  Laertes,  Old  Boisterous,  and  even  Frau 
Melina.  Nay,  he  promised  to  procure  for  the  silly  pedant  himself, 
in  the  character  of  Jew,  minister,  but  chiefly  of  villain,  a  decided 
approbation. 

Wilhelm  faltered  ;  the  proposal  fluttered  him  ;  he  knew  not  what 
to  say.  That  he  might  say  sometliiug,  he  rejoined  with  a  deep-drawn 
breath  :  ' '  You  speak  very  graciously  about  the  good  you  find  and 
hope  to  find  in  us  :  but  how  is  it  with  our  weak  points,  which  cer- 
tainly have  not  escaped  your  penetration 't  " 

"These,"  said  Serlo,  "by  diligence,  practice  and  reflection,  we 
shall  soon  make  strong  points.  Though  you  are  yet  but  freshmen 
and  bunglers,  there  is  not  one  among  you  that  does  not  warrant  ex- 
pectation more  or  less  ;  for,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  no  stick,  properly 
so  called,  is  to  be  met  with  in  the  company  :  and  your  stick  is  the  only 
person  that  can  never  be  improved,  never  bent  or  guided,  whether  it 
be  self-conceit,  stupidity,  or  hypochondria,  that  renders  liim  unpli- 
ant." 

The  manager  next  stated,  in  a  few  words,  the  terms  he  meant  to 
offer  ;  requested  Wilhelm  to  determine  soon,  and  left  him  in  no  small 
perplexity. 

In  the  marvelous  composition  of  those  travels,  which  he  had  at 
first  engaged  with  as  it  were  in  jest,  and  was  now  carrying  on  in  con- 
junction with  Laertes,  his  mind  had  by  degrees  grown  more  attentive 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XTX.  207 

to  tlie  circumstances  aud  the  every-day  life  of  the  actual  world  than 
it  was  wont.  He  now  first  understood  the  object  of  his  father  in  so 
earnestly  recommending'  him  to  keep  a  journal.  He  now,  for  the 
first  time,  felt  how  pleasant  and  liow  useful  it  might  be  to  become 
participator  in  so  many  trades  and  requisitions,  and  to  take  a  hand  in 
diflFusing  activity  and  life  into  the  deepest  nooks  of  the  niountains 
and  forests  of  Europe.  The  busy  trading  town  in  which  he  was  ;  the 
unrest  of  Laertes,  who  dragged  him  about  to  examine  everything,  af- 
forded him  the  most  impressive  image  of  a  mighty  center,  from  which 
everything  was  flowing  out,  to  which  everything  was  coming  back  ; 
and  it  was  the  first  time  that  his  spirit,  in  contemplating  this  species 
of  activity  had  really  felt  delight.  At  such  a  juncture  Serlo's  offer 
had  been  made  him  ;  had  again  awakened  his  desires,  liis  tendencies, 
his  faith  in  a  natural  talent,  and  again  brought  into  mind  his  solemn 
obligation  to  his  helpless  comrades. 

"  Here  standest  thou  once  more,"  said  he  within  himself,  "  at  the 
parting  of  the  ways,  between  the  two  women  who  appeared  before 
thee  in  thy  youth.  The  one  no  longer  looks  so  pitiful  as  then  ;  nor 
does  the  other  look  so  glorious.  To  obey  the  one,  or  to  obey  the 
other,  thou  art  not  without  a  kind  of  inward  calling  ;  outv/ard  reasons 
are  on  both  sides  strong  enough  ;  and  to  decide  appears  to  thee  im- 
possible. Thou  wishest  some  preponderancy  from  without  would  fix 
thy  choice  ;  and  yet,  if  thou  consider  well,  it  is  external  circumstances 
only  that  inspire  thee  with  a  wish  to  trade,  to  gather,  to  possess  : 
whilst  it  is  thy  inmost  want  that  has  created,  that  has  nourished  the 
desire  still  farther  to  unfold  and  perfect  what  endowments  soever  for 
the  beautiful  and  good,  be  they  mental  or  bodily,  may  lie  within  thee. 
And  ought  I  not  to  honor  fate,  which  without  furtherance  of  mine 
has  led  me  hither  to  the  goal  of  all  my  wishes  ?  Has  not  all  that  I  in 
old  times  meditated  and  forecast,  now  happened  accidentally,  and 
without  any  co-operation?  Singular  enough  !  We  seem  to  be  so 
intimate  with  nothing  as  we  are  with  our  own  wishes  and  hopes,  ^ 
which  have  long  been  kept  and  cherished  in  our  hearts  ;  yet  when 
they  meet  us,  when  they  as  it  were  press  forward  to  us,  then  we! 
know  them  not,  then  we  recoil  from  them.  All  that,  since  the  hap- 
less night  which  severed  me  from  Mariana,  I  have  but  allowed  my- 
self to  dream,  now  stands  before  me,  entreating  my  acceptance. 
Hither  I  intended  to  escape  by  flight ;  hither  I  am  softly  guided  : 
with  Serlo  I  meant  to  seek  a  place  ;  he  now  seeks  me,  and  ofTers  me 
conditions  which,  as  a  beginner,  I  could  not  have  looked  for.  Was  it| 
then  mere  love  to  Mariana  that  bound  me  to  the  stage?  Or  love  tol 
art  that  bound  me  to  her  ?  Was  that  prospect,  that  outlet,  which  the  i 
theater  presented  me,  nothing  but  the  project  of  a  restless,  disorderly  ' 
and  disobedient  boy,  wishing  to  lead  a  life  which  the  customs  of 
tlio  civic  world  would  not  admit  of.  Or,  was  all  this  different, 
worthier,  purer?  If  so,  what  moved  thee  to  alter  the  persuasions  of 
that  period?     Hast  thou  not  hitherto,  even  without  knowing  it,  pur- 


308  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


sued  thy  plan  ?  Is  not  the  "concluding  step  still  farther  to  be  justified, 
now  that  no  side-purposes  combine  with  it  ;  now  that  in  making  it 
thou  mayest  fulfill  a  solemn  promise,  and  nobly  free  thyself  from  a 
heavy  debt?" 

All  that  could  affect  his  heart  and  his  imagination  was  now 
moving,  and  conflicting  in  the  liveliest  strife  within  him.  The 
thought  that  he  might  retain  Mignon,  that  he  should  not  need  to  put 
away  the  harper,  was  not  an  inconsiderable  item  in  the  balance  ; 
which,  however,  had  not  ceased  to  waver  to  the  one  and  to  the  other 
side,  when  he  went,  as  he  was  wont,  to  see  his  friend  Aurelia. 


1 


CHAPTER  XX. 


She  was  lying  on  the  sofa  ;  she  seemed  quiet.  "  Do  you  think  you 
will  be  fit  to  act  to-morrow  ?"  he  inquired.  "0  yes  !  "  cried  she  with 
vivacity,  'you  know  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  me.  If  I  but  knew 
a  way,"  continued  she,  "  to  rid  myself  of  those  applauses  !  The  peo- 
ple mean  it  well,  but  they  will  kill  me.  Last  night,  I  thought  my 
very  lieart  would  break  1  .  Once,  when  I  used  to  please  myself,  I 
could  endure  this  gladly  :  when  I  had  studied  long,  and  well  prepared 
myself,  it  gave  me  joy  to  hear  the  sound,  '  It  has  succeeded  ! '  pealing 
back  to  me  from  every  corner.  But  now  I  speak  not  what  I  like,  nor 
as  I  like  :  I  am  swept  along,  I  get  confused,  I  scarce  know  what  I  do  ; 
and  the  impression  I  make  is  far  deeper.  The  applause  grows  louder, 
and  I  think  :  Did  you  but  know  what  charms  you  !  These  dark, 
vague,  vehement  tones  of  passion  move  you,  force  you  to  admire  ; 
and  you  feel  not  that  they  are  the  cries  of  agony,  wrung  from  the 
miserable  being  whom  you  praise. 

"  I  learned  my  part  this  morning  ;  just  now  I  have  been  repeating 
it  and  trying  it.  I  am  tired,  broken  down  ;  and  to-morrow  I  must  do 
the  same.  To-morrow  evening  is  the  play.  Thus  do  I  drag  myself 
to  and  fro  :  it  is  wearisome  to  rise,  it  is  wearisome  to  go  to  bed.  All 
moves  within  me  in  an  everlasting  circle.  Then  come  their  dreary 
consolations,  and  present  themselves  before  me  ;  and  I  cast  them  out, 
and  execrate  them.  I  will  not  surrender,  not  surrender  to  necessity  : 
why  should  that  be  necessary,  which  crushes  me  to  the  dust  ?  Might 
it  not  be  otherwi.se  ?  I  am  paying  the  penalty  of  being  born  a  Ger- 
man ;  it  is  the  nature  of  the  Germans  that  they  bear  heavily  on  every- 
thing, that  everything  bears  heavily  on  them." 

"O  my  friend!"  cried  Willielni,  "could  you  cease  to  whet  the 
dagger  wherewith  you  are  ever  wounding  nie  !  Does  nothing  then 
remain  for  you?  Are  your  youth,  your  form,  your  health,  your 
talents  nothing  ?  Having  lost  one  blessing,  without  blame  of  yours, 
must  you  throw  all  the  others  after  it?    Is  that  also  necessary? " 


BOOK  IV.  CHAPTER  XX.  209 

She  was  silent  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  burst  forth  :  "  I  know 
well  it  is  a  waste  of  time,  nothing  but  a  waste  of  time,  this  love  ! 
What  might  not,  should  not  I  have  done  !  And  now  it  is  all  vanished 
into  air.  1  am  a  poor,  wretched,  lovelorn  creature  ;  lovelorn,  that  is 
all  !  O,  have  comi^assion  on  me :  God  knows  I  am  poor  and 
wretched  ! " 

She  sank  in  thought ;  then,  after  a  brief  pause,  she  exclaimed  with 
violence  :  "  You  are  accustomed  to  have  all  things  fly  into  your  arms. 
No,  you  cannot  feel  ;  no  man  is  qualified  to  feel  the  worth  of  a  woman 
that  can  reverence  herself.  By  all  the  holy  angels,  by  all  the  images 
of  blessedness,  which  a  pure  and  kindly  heart  creates,  there  is  not 
anything  more  heavenly  than  the  soul  of  a  woman  giving  herself  to 
the  man  she  loves  ! 

"  We  are  cold,  proud,  high,  clear-sighted,  wise,  while  we  deserve 
the  name  of  women  ;  and  all  these  qualities  we  lay  down  at  your 
feet,  the  instant  that  we  love,  that  we  hope  to  excite  a  return  of  love. 
O,  how  have  I  cast  away  my  whole  existence  wittingly  and  willingly  !  ; 
But  now  will  I  despair,  purposely  despair.  There  is  no  drop  of 
blood  within  me  but  shall  suffer,  no  fiber  that  I  will  not  punish. 
Smile,  I  pray  you  ;    laugh  at  this  theatrical  disi)lay  of  passion."* 

Wilhelm  was  far  enough  from  any  tendency  to  laugh.  This  horri- 
ble, half-natural,  half -factitious  condition  of  his  friend  afflicted  him 
but  too  deeplv.  He  sympathized  in  the  tortures  of  that  racking 
misery  :  his  thoughts  were  wandering  in  painful  perplexities,  his 
blood  was  in  a  feverish  tumult. 

She  had  risen,  and  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room.  "I see 
before  me,"  she  exclaimed,  "  all  manner  of  reasons  why  I  should  not 
love  him.  I  know  he  is  not  worthy  of  it :  I  turn  my  mind  aside,  this 
way  and  that ;  I  seize  upon  whatever  business  I  |j|Ln  find.  At  one 
time  1  take  up  a  part,  though  I  have  not  to  play  it  ;  at  another,  I  be- 
gin to  practice  old  ones,  though  I  know  them  through  and  through  ; 
I  practice  them  more  diligently,  more  minutely,  I  toil  and  toil  at  them^ 
— My  friend,  my  confidant,  what  a  horrid  task  is  it  to  tear  away  one's  ,' 
thoughts  from  one's  self  !  My  reason  suffers,  my  brain  is  racked  and 
strained  :  to  save  myself  from  madness  I  again  admit  the  feeling  that 
I  love  him.  Yes,  I  love  him,  I  love  him  !  "  cried  she,  with  a  shower 
of  tears  ,  "  I  love  him,  I  shall  die  loving  him  !  " 

He  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  entreated  her  in  the  most  earnest 
manner  not  to  waste  herself  in  such  self -torments.  "  O,  it  seems 
hard,"  said  he,  "  that  not  only  so  much  that  is  impossible  should  be 
denied  us,  but  so  much  also  that  is  possible.  It  was  not  your  lot  to 
meet  with  a  faithful  heart  that  would  have  formed  your  pei'fect  hap- 
piness. It  was  mine  to  fix  the  welfare  of  my  life  upon  a  hapless  crea- 
ture, whom  by  the  weight  of  my  fidelity  I  drew  to  the  bottom  like  a 
reed,  pei-haps  even  broke  in  pieces  !  " 

He  had  told  Aurelia  of  his  intercourse  with  Mariana,  and  could 
therefore  now  refer  to  it.     She  looked  him  intently  in  the  face,  and 


210  MEI81EB' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

asked  :  "  Can  you  say  tliat  you  never  yet  betrayed  a  woman,  tliat  yf)u 
never  tried  with  tliouglitless  gallantry,  with  false  asseverations,  wth 
cajoling  oaths,  to  wheedle  favor  f i-om  her  ?  " 

"  I  can,"  said  Wilhelni,  "  and  indeed  without  much  vanity  :  my  life 
has  been  so  simple  and  sequestered,  I  have  had  but  few  enticements 
to  attempt  such  things.  And  what  a  warning,  my  beautiful,  my  no- 
ble friend,  is  tliis  melancholy  state  in  which  1  see  you  !  Accept  of  me 
a  vow,  which  is  suited  to  my  heart  :  which,  under  the  emotion  you 
have  caused  me,  has  settled  into  words  and  shape,  and  will  be  hal- 
lowed by  the  hour  in  which  I  utter  it  :  Each  transitory  inclination  I 
will  study  to  withstand  ;  and  even  the  most  earnest  I  will  keep  with- 
in my  bosom  ;  no  w^oman  shall  recieve  an  acknowledgment  of  love 
from  my  lips,  to  whom  1  cannot  consecrate  my  life  ! " 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  wild  indifference  ;  and  drew  back  some 
steps  as  he  offered  her  his  hand.  "  'Tis  of  no  moment  !"  cried  she  : 
"so  many  women's  tears  more  or  fewer  :  the  ocean  will  not  swell  by 
reason  of  them.  And  yet,"  continued  she,  "among  thousands  one. 
woman  saved  ;  that  still  is  something  :  among  thousands  one  honest 
man  discovered  ;  this  is  not  to  be  refused.  Do  you  know  then  what 
you  promise  ?  " 

"  I  know  it,"  answered  Wilhelm  with  a  smile,  and  holding  out  his 
hand. 

"  I  accept  it  then,"  said  she,  and  made  a  movement  with  her  right 
hand,  as  if  meaning  to  take  hold  of  his  :  but  instantly  .she  darted  it 
into  her  pocket,  pulled  out  her  dagger  quick  as  lightning,  and  scored 
with  the  edge  and  point  of  it  across  his  hand.  Ke  hastily  drew  it  back, 
but  the  blood  was  already  running  down. 

"  One  must  mark  you  men  rather  sharply,  if  one  would  have  you 
take  heed,"  crie^  she  with  a  wild  mirtli,  which  soon  passed  into  a 
quick  assiduity.  She  took  her  handkerchief,  and  bound  his  hand 
with  it  to  stanch  the  fast-flowing  blood.  "  Forgive  a  half -crazed 
being,"  cried  she,  "and  regret  not  these  few  drops  of  blood.  lam 
appeased,  I  am  again  myself.  On  my  knees  will  I  crave  your  pardon  : 
leave  me  the  comfort  of  healing  you." 

She  ran  to  her  drawer  ;  brought  lint,  with  other  apparatus  ; 
stanched  the  blood,  and  viewed  the  wound  attentively.  It  went  across 
the  palm,  close  under  the  thumb,  dividing  the  life-lines,  and  running 
towards  the  little  finger.  She  bound  it  up  in  silence,  with  a  signifi- 
cant, reflective  look.  He  asked  once  or  twice  :  "  Aurelia,  how  could 
you  hurt  your  friend  ?  " 

"  Hush  I  "  replied  she,  laying  her  finger  on  her  mouth  :  "  Hush  !  " 


BOOK  V.  0HAP2ER  I.  211 


BOOK    V. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Thus  Wilhelm,  to  his  pair  of  former  wounds,  wlxich  were  yet 
scarcely  liealed,  had  now  got  the  accession  of  a  third,  which  was  fresh 
and  not  a  little  disagreeable.  Aurelia  would  not  suffer  him  to  call  a 
surgeon  ;  she  dressed  the  hand  with  all  manner  of  strange  speeches, 
saws  and  ceremonies  ;  and  so  placed  him  in  a  very  painful  situation. 
Yet  not  he  alone,  but  all  persons  who  came  near  her,  suffered  by  her 
restlessness  and  singularity  :  and  no  one  more  than  little  Felix.  This 
stirring  child  was  exceedingly  impatient  under  such  oppression,  and 
showed  himself  still  naughtier,  the  more  she  censured  and  instructed 
him. 

He  delighted  in  some  practices  which  commonly  are  thought  bad 
habits,  and  in  which  she  would  not  by  any  means  indulge  him.  He 
would  drink,  for  example,  rather  from  the  bottle  than  the  glass  ;  and 
his  food  seemed  visibly  to  have  a  better  relish  when  eaten  from  the 
bowl  than  from  the  plate.  Such  ill-breeding  was  not  overlooked  :  if 
he  left  the  door  standing  open,  or  slammed  it  to  ;  if  when  bid  do  any- 
thing, he  stood  stock-still,  or  ran  off  violently,  he  was  sure  to  have  a 
long  lecture  intlicted  on  him  for  the  fault.  Yet  he  showed  no  symp- 
toms of  improvement  from  this  training  :  on  the  iOther  hand,  his 
affection  for  Aurelia  seemed  daily  to  dimnish  ;  there  was  nothing 
tender  in  his  tone  when  he  called  her  mother  ;  whereas  he  passion- 
ately clung  to  the  old  nurse,  who  let  him  have  his  will  in  everything. 

But  slie  likewise  had  of  late  become  so  sick,  that  they  had  at  last 
been  obliged  to  take  her  from  the  house  into  a  quiet  lodging  ;  and 
Felix  would  have  been  entirely  alone,  if  Mignon  had  not,  like  a  kindly 
guardian  spirit,  come  to  help  him.  The  two  children  talked  together,- 
and  amused  each  other  in  the  prettiest  style.  She  taught  him  little 
songs  ;  and  he,  having  an  excellent  memory,  frequently  recited  them, 
to  the  surprise  of  those  about  him.  She  attempted  also  to  explain  her 
maps  to  him.  With  these  she  was  still  very  busy,  though  she  did 
not  seem  to  take  the  fittest  method.  For,  in  studying  countries,  she 
appeared  to  care  little  about  any  other  point  than  whether  they  were 
cold  or  wai-m.  Of  the  north  and  south  poles,  of  the  horrid  ice  w-hich 
reigns  there,  and  of  the  increasing  heat  the  farther  one  retires  from 
them,  she  could  give  a  very  clear  account.  When  any  one  was  travel- 
ing, she  merely  asked  whether  he  was  going  northward  or  southward  ; 
and  strove  to  find  his  route  in  her  little  charts.     Especially   when 


212  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Wilhelm  spoke  of  traveling,  she  was  all  attention,  and  seemed  vexed 
when  anything  occurred  to  change  the  subject.  Though  she  could 
not  be  prevailed  upon  to  undertake  a  part,  or  even  to  enter  the  theater 
when  any  play  was  acting,  yet  she  willingly  and  zealously  committed 
many  odes  and  songs  to  memory  ;  and  by  unexpectedly,  and  as  it 
were  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  reciting  some  such  poem,  generally 
of  the  earnest  and  solemn  kind,  she  would  often  cause  astonishment 
in  every  one. 

Serlo,  accustomed  to  regard  with  favor  every  trace  of  opening 
talent,  encouraged,  her  in  such  performances  ;  but  what  pleased  him 
most  in  Mignon  was  her  sprightly,  various  and  often  even  mirthful 
singing.  By  means  of  a  similar  gift,  the  harper  likewise  had  acquired 
his  favor. 

Without  himself  possessing  genius  for  music,  or  playing  on  any 
instrument,  Serlo  could  rightly  prize  the  value  of  the  art  ;  he  failed 
not,  as  often  as  he  could,  to  enjoy  this  pleasure,  which  cannot  be 
compared  with  any  other.  He  held  a  concert  once  a  week  :  and  now, 
with  Mignon,  the  harper  and  Leartes,  Avho  was  not  unskillful  on  the 
violin,  he  had  formed  a  very  curious  domestic  band. 

He  was  wont  to  say  :  ' '  Men  are  so  inclined  to  content  themselves 
with  Avhat  is  commonest  ;  the  spirit  and  the  senses  so  easily  grow 
dead  to  the  impressions  of  the  beautiful  and  perfect,  that  every  one 
should  study,  by  all  methods,  to  nourish  in  his  mind  the  faculty  of 
feeling  these  things.  For  no  man  can  bear  to  be  entirely  deprived  of 
such  enjoyments  :  it  is  only  because  they  are  not  used  to  taste  of  what 
is  excellent,  that  the  generality  of  people  take  delight  in  silly  and 
insipid  things,  provided  they  be  new.  For  this  reason,"  he  would 
add,  "  one  ought  every  day  at  least  to  hear  a  little  song,  read  a  good 
poem,  see  a  fine  picture,  and,  if  it  were  possible,  to  speak  a  few  rea- 
sonable words."  With  such  a  turn  of  thought  in  Serlo,  which  in 
some  degree  was  natural  to  him,  the  persons  who  frequented  his 
society  could  scarcely  be  in  want  of  pleasant  conversation. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  instructive  entertainments,  that  Wil- 
helm one  day  received  a  letter  sealed  in  black.  Werner's  hand 
betokened  mournful  news ;  and  our  friend  was  not  a  little  shocked 
when,  opening  the  sheet,' he  found  it  to  contain  the  tidings  of  his 
father's  death,  conveyed  in  a  very  few  words.  After  a  short  and  sud- 
den illness  he  had  parted  from  the  world,  leaving  his<iomestic  affairs 
in  the  best  possible  order. 

This  unlooked-for  intelligence  struck  Wilhelm  to  the  heart.  He 
deeply  felt  how  careless  and  negligent  we  often  are  of  friends  and 
relations  while  they  inhabit  with  us  this  terrestrial  sojourn  ;  and  how 
we  first  repent  of  our  insensibility  when  the  fair  union,  at  leaSt  for 
this  side  of  time,  is  finally  cut  asunder.  His  grief  for  the  early  death 
of  this  honest  parent  was  mitigated  only  by  the  feeling,  that  he  had 
loved  but  little  in  the  world,  and  the  conviction  that  he  had  enjoyed 
but  little. 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  I  213 

Wilhelm's  thoughts  soon  turned  to  his  own  predicament ;  and  he 
felt  himself  extremely  discomposed.  A  person  can  scarcely  be  put 
into  a  more  dangerous  position,  than  when  external  circunistiinces 
have  produced  some  striking  change  in  his  condition,  without  his/ 
manner  of  feeling  and  of  thinking  having  undergone  any  preparation' 
for  it.  There  is  then  an  epoch  without  epoch  ;  and  the  contradiction 
whicn  arises  is  the  greater,  the  less  the  person  feels  that  he  is  not 
trained  for  this  new  manner  of  existence. 

Wilhelm  saw  himself  in  freedom,  at  a  moment  when  he  could  not 
yet  be  at  one  with  himself.  His  thoughts  were  noble,  his  motives 
pure,  his  purposes  were  now  to  be  despised.  All  this  he  could  with 
some  degree  of  confidence  acknowledge  to  himself  ;  but  he  had  of 
late  been  frequently  enough  compelled  to  notice,  that  experience  was 
sadly  wanting  to  him  ;  and  hence  on  the  experience  of  others,  and  on 
the  result  which  they  deduced  from  it,  he  put  a  value  far  beyond  its 
real  one  ;  and  thus  led  himself  still  deeper  into  error.  What  he 
wanted,  he  conceived  he  might  most  readily  acquire  if  he  undertook 
to  collect  and  retain  whatever  memorable  thought  he  should  meet 
with,  in  reading  or  in  conversation.  He  accordingly  recorded  his  own 
or  other  men"s  opinions,  nay,  wrote  whole  dialogues,  when  they 
chanced  to  interest  him.  But  unhappily  by  this  means  he  held  fast 
the  false  no  less  firmly  than  the  true  ;  he  dwelt  far  too  long  on  one 
idea,  particularly  when  it  was  of  an  aphoristic  shape  :  and  thus  he 
left  his  natural  mode  of  thought  and  action,  and  frequently  took 
foreign  lights  for  his  loadstars.  Aurelia's  bitterness,  and  Laertes's 
cold  contempt  for  men,  warped  his  judgment  oftener  than  they  should 
have  done  :  but  no  one,  in  his  present  case,  would  have  been  so 
dangerous  as  Jarno,  a  man  whose  clear  intellect  could  form  a  just  and 
rigorous  decision  about  present  things  ;  but  who  erred  withal  in 
enunciating  these  particular  decisions  with  a  kind  of  universal  appli- 
cation ;/ "whereas,  in  truth,  the  judgments  of  the  understanding  are 
properly  of  force  but  once,  and  that  in  the  strictest  cases,  and  become 
inaccurate  in  some  degree  when  applied  to  any  other. 

Thus  Wilhelm,  striving  to"  become  consistent  witli  himself,  was 
deviating  farther  and  farther  from  wholesome  consistency  ;  and  this 
confusion  made  it  easier  for  his  passicTns  to  employ  their  whole 
artillery  against  him,  and  thus  still  farther  to  perplex  liis  views  of 
duty. 

Serlo  did  not  fail  to  take  advantage  of  the  late  tidings  ;  and  in 
truth  he  daily  had  more  reason  to  be  anxious  about  some  fresh 
arrangement  of  his  people.  Either  he  must  soon  renew  his  old  con- 
tract :  a  measure  he  was  not  specially  fond  of,  for  several  of  his 
actors,  who  reckoned  themselves  indispensable,  were  growing  more 
and  more  arrogant ;  or  else  he  must  entirely  new-model  and  reform 
his  company  ;  which  plan  he  looked  upon  as  preferal)le. 

Though  he  did  not  personally  importune  our  friend,  he  set  Aurelia 
and  Philiua  on  him  :  and  the  other  wanderers,  longing  for  some  kind 


214  MEISTER'S  APPRENriCESHIP. 

of  settlement,  on  tlieir  side  gave  Wilhelm  not  a  moment's  rest ;  so 
that  he  stood  hesitating  in  his  choice,  in  no  slight  embarrassment, 
till  he  should  decide.  Who  would  have  thought  that  a  letter  of 
Werner's,  written  with  quite  different  views,  should  have  forced  him 
on  resolving  '?  We  shall  omit  the  introduction,  and  give  the  rest  of 
it  with  little  alteration. 


CHAPTER  II. 


"  — It  was,  therefore,  and  it  always  must  be,  right  for  every  one,  on 
any  opportunity,  to  follow  his  vocation  and  exhibit  his  activity. 
Scarcely  had  the  good  old  man  been  gone  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  when 
everything  in  the  house  began  moving  by  a  different  plan  than  his. 
Friends,  acquaintances,  relations,  crowded  forward  ;  especially  all 
sorts  of  people  who  on  such  occasions  use  to  gain  anything.  They 
fetched  and  carried,  they  counted,  wrote  and  reckoned  ;  some  brought 
wine  and  meat,  others  ate  and  drank  ;  and  none  seemed  busier  than 
the  women  getting  out  the  mournings. 

"Such  being  the  case,  thou  wilt  not  blame  me  that,  in  this  emer- 
gency, I  likewise  thought  of  my  advantage.  I  made  myself  as  active, 
and  as  helpful  to  thy  sister,  as  I  could  ;  and  so  soon  as  it  was  any 
way  decorous,  signified  to  her  that  it  had  now  become  our  business 
to  accelerate  a  union,  which  our  parents  in  their  too  great  circum 
spection  had  hitherto  postponed. 

"  Do  not  suppose,  however,  that  it  came  into  our  heads  to  take  pos- 
session of  that  monstrous  empty  house.  We  are  more  modest,  and 
more  rational.  Thou  shalt  hear  our  plan  ;  thy  sister,  so  soon  as  we 
are  married,  comes  to  our  house  ;  and  thy  mother  comes  along  with 
her.  '  How  can  that  be  ? '  thou  wilt  say  ;  '  you  have  scarcely  room 
for  yourselves  in  that  hampered  nest.'  There  lies  the  art  of  it,  my 
friend  !  Good  packing  renders  all  things  possible  ;  thou  wouldst  not 
believe  what  space  one  finds,  when  one  desires  to  occupy  but  little. 
The  large  house  we  shall  sell  ;  an  opportunity  occurs  for  this  ;  and 
the  money  we  shall  draw  fqr  it  will  produce  a  hundred-fold. 

"  I  hope  this  meets  thy  views  :  1  hope  also  thou  hast  not  inherited 
tlie  smallest  particle  of  those  unprofitable  tastes  for  which  thy  father 
and  thy  grandfather  were  noted.  The  latter  placed  liis  greatest  hap- 
piness in  having  about  him  a  multitude  of  dull-looking  works  of  art, 
which  no  one,  I  may  well  say  no  one,  could  enjoy  with  him  ;  the  for- 
mer lived  in  a  stately  pomp  which  he  suffered  no  one  to  enjoy  with 
him.     W^e  mean  to  manage  otherwise,  and  we  expect  thy  approbation. 

"It  is  true,  I  myself  in  all  the  house  have  no  place  whatever  but 
the  stool  before  my  writing-desk  ;  and  I  see  not  clearly  where  they 
will  be  able  to  jnit  a  cradle  down  :  but  in  return,  the  room  we  shall  have 
out  of  doors  will  be  the  more  abundant.     Coffee-houses  and  clubs  for 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  11.  215 

the  husband  ;  walks  and  drives  for  the  wife  ;  and  pleasant  country 
jaunts  for  both.  But  the  chief  advantage  in  our  plan  is,  that  the 
round  table  being  now  completely  filled,  our  father  cannot  ask  his 
friends  to  dinner,  who  the  more  he  strove  to  entertain  them,  used  to 
laugh  at  him  the  more. 

"  Now  no  superfluity  for  us  !  Not  too  much  furniture  and  appara- 
tus ;  no  coach,  no  horses  !  Nothing  but  money  ;  and  the  liberty,  day 
after  day,  to  do  what  you  like  in  reason.  No  wardrobe ;  still  the 
best  and  newest  on  your  back  :  the  man  may  wear  liis  coat  till  it  is 
done ;  the  wife  may  truck  her  gown  the  moment  it  is  going  out  of 
fashion.  There  is  nothing  so  unsufferable  to  me  as  an  old  huckster's 
shop  of  property.  If  you  would  offer  me  a  jewel,  on  condition  of  my 
wearing  it  daily  on  my  finger,  1  would  not  accept  it  ;  for  how  can  one 
conceive  any  pleasure  in  a  dead  capital  ?  This  then  is  my  confession 
in  faith  :  To  transact  your  business,  to  make  money,  to  be  merry 
with  your  household  ;  and  about  the  rest  of  the  earth  to  trouble  your,  ^^ 
self  no  farther  than  where  you  can  be  of  service  to  it.  i  ^^ 

"  But  ere  now  thou  art  saying  :     '  And  pray  what  is  to  be  done  with  \     7* 
me  in  this  sage  plan  of  yours?     Where  shall   I  find  shelter,  when  '       "^^ 
you  have  sold  my  own  house,  and  not  the  smallest  room  remains  in 
yours  ? ' 

"  This  is  in  truth  the  main  point,  brother  ;  and  in  this  too  I  shall 
have  it  in  my  power  to  serve  thee.  But  first  I  must  present  the  just 
tribute  of  my  pi'aise  for  time  so  spent  as  thine  has  been. 

"  Tell  me,  how  hast  thou  within  a  few  weeks  become  so  skilled  in 
every  useful,  interesting  object?  Highly  as  I  thought  of  thy  powers, 
I  did  not  reckon  such  attention  and  such  diligence  among  the  num-  ' 
ber.  Thy  journal  shows  us  with  what  profit  thou  art  traveling.  The 
description  of  the  iron  and  the  copper  forges  is  exquisite  ;  it  evinces 
a  complete  knowledge  of  the  subject.  1  myself  was  once  there  ;  but 
my  relation,  compared  with  this,  has  but  a  very  bungled  look.  The 
whole  letter  on  the  linen-trade  is  full  of  information  ;  the  remarks  on 
commercial  competition  are  at  once  just  and  striking.  In  one  or  two 
places  there  are  errors  in  addition,  which  indeed  are  very  pardonable., 

"  But  what  most  delights  my  father  and  myself  is  thy  thorough 
knowledge  of  husbandry,  and  the  improvement  of  landed  property. 
We  have  thoughts  of  purchasing  a  large  estate,  at  present  under 
sequestration,  in  a  very  fruitful  district.  For  paying  it,  we  mean  to 
use  the  money  realized  by  the  sale  of  the  house  ;  another  portion  we 
shall  borrow  ;  a  portion  may  remain  unpaid.  And  we  count  on  thee 
for  going  thither,  and  superintending  the  improvement  of  it  ;  by 
which  means,  before  many  years  are  passed,  the  land,  to  speak  in 
moderation,  will  have  risen  above  a  third  in  value.  We  shall  then 
bring  it  to  the  market  again  ;  seek  out  a  larger  piece  ;  improve  and 
trade  as  formerly.  For  all  this,  thou  art  the  man.  Our  pens,  mean-  . 
while,  will  not  lie  idle  here ;  and  so  by  and  by  we  shall  rise  to  be  \ 
enviable  people. 


216  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  For  the  present,  fare  thee  well  !  Enjoy  life  on  thr  journey,  and 
turn  thy  face  wherever  thou  caust  find  contentment  and  advantage. 
For  the  nest  half  year  we  shall  not  need  thee  ;  thou  canst  look  about 
thee  in  the  world  where  thou  pleasest ;  a  judicious  person  finds  his 
best  instruction  in  his  travels.  Farewell  !  I  rejoice  at  being  con- 
nected with  thee  so  closely  by  relation,  and  now  united  with  thee  in 
the  spirit  of  activity." 

Well  as  this  letter  might  be  penned,  and  full  of  economical  truths 
as  it  was,  Wilhelm  felt  displeased  with  it  for  more  than  one  reason. 
The  praise  bestowed  on  him  for  his  pretended  statistical,  technologi- 
cal and  rural  knowledge,  was  a  silent  reprimand.  The  ideal  of  the 
happiness  of  civic  life,  which  his  worthy  brother  sketched,  by  no 
means  charmed  him  ;  on  the  contrary,  a  secret  spirit  of  contradiction 
dragged  him  forcibly  the  other  way.  He  convinced  himself  that, 
except  on  the  stage,  he  could  nowhere  find  that  mental  culture  which 
he  longed  to  give  himself  ;  he  seemed  to  grow  the  more  decided  in 
his  resolution,  the  more  strongly  Werner,  without  knowing  it,  opposed 
him.  Thus  assailed,  he  collected  all  his  arguments  together,  and 
buttressed  his  opinions  in  his  mind  the  more  carefully,  the  more  desir- 
able he  reckoned  it  to  show  them  in  a  favorable  light  to  Werner ; 
and  in  this  manner  he  produced  an  answer,  which  also  we  insert. 


CHAPTER  III. 


"Thy  letter  is  so  well  written,  and  so  prudently  and  wisely  con- 
ceived, that  no  objection  can  be  made  to  it.  Only  thou  must  pardon 
me,  when  I  declare  that  one  may  think,  maintain  and  do  directly  the 
reverse,  and  yet  be  in  the  right  as  well  as  thou.  Thy  mode  of  being 
and  imagining  appears  to  turn  on  boundless  acquisition,  and  a  light, 
mirthful  manner  of  enjoyment  ;  I  need  scarcely  tell  thee,  that  in  all 
this  I  find  little  that  can  charm  me. 

"  First,  however,  I  am  sorry  to  admit,  that  my  journal  is  none  of 
mine  !  Under  the  pressure  of  necessity,  and  to  satisfy  my  father,  it 
was  patched  together  by  a  friend's  help,  out  of  many  books  ;  and 
though  in  words  I  know  the  objects  it  relates  to,  and  more  of  the  like 
sort,  I  by  no  means  understand  them,  or  can  occupy  myself  about 
tliem.  What  good  were  it  for  me  to  manufacture  jierfect  iron,  while 
my  own  breast  is  full  of  dross '?  What  would  it  stead  me  to  put 
properties  of  land  in  order,  while  I  am  at  variance  witli  myself? 

"  To  speak  it  in  a  word  ;  the  cixltivation  of  my  individual  self,  here 
as  I  am,  has  from  my  youth  upwards  been  constantly  thougli  dimly 
my  wish  and  my  purpose.  The  same  intention  I  still  cherish,  but  the 
means  of  realizing  it  are  now  grown  somewhat  clearer.  I  have  seen 
more  of  Ufe  than  thou  believest,  and  profited  more  by  it  also.     Give 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  III.  21*7 

some  attention  then  to  what  I  say,  though  it  should  not  altogether 
tally  with  thy  own  opinions. 

' '  Had  I  been  a  nobleman,  our  dispute  would  soon  have  been  decided  ; 
but  being  a  simple  burgher,  I  must  take  a  path  of  my  own  ;  and  1 
fear  it  may  be  ditficult  to  make  thee  understand  me.  I  know  not  how 
it  is  in  foreign  countries  ;  but  in  Germany,  a  universal,  and  if  I  may  say 
so,  personal  cultivation  is  beyond  the  reach  of  any  one  except  a  noble- 
man. A  burgher  may  acquire  merit  ;  by  excessive  efforts  he  may  even 
educate  his  mind  ;  l)ut  his  personal  qualities  are  lost,  or  worse  than  lost, 
let  him  struggle  as  he  will.  Since  the  nobleman,  frequenting  the 
society  of  the  most  polished,  is  compelled  to  give  himself  a  polished 
manner  ;  since  this  manner,  neither  door  nor  gate  being  shut  against 
him,  grows  at  last  an  unconstrained  one  ;  since,  in  court  or  camp,  his 
figure,  his  person,  are  a  part  of  his  possessions,  and  it  may  be  the  most 
necessary  part, — he  has  reason  enough  to  put  some  value  on  them, 
and  to  show  that  he  puts  some.  A.  certain  stately  grace  in  common 
things,  a  sort  of  gay  elegance  in  earnest  and  important  ones,  becomes 
him  well  ;  for  it  shows  him  to  be  everywhere  in  equilibrium.  He  is 
a  public  person,  and  the  more  cultivated  his  movement;'  the  more 
sonorous  his  voice,  the  more  staid  and  measured  his  whole  being  is, 
the  more  perfect  is  he.  If  to  high  and  low,  to  friends  and  'delations, 
he  continues  still  the  same,  then  nathing  can  be  said  against  him, 
none  may  wish  him  otherwise.  His  coldness  must  be  reckoned  clear- 
ness of  head,  his  dissimulation  prudence.  If  he  can  rule  himself 
externally  at  every  moment  of  iiis  life,  no  man  has  aught  more  to 
demand  of  him  ;  and  whatever  else  there  may  be  in  him  or  about 
him,  capacities,  talents,  wealth,  all  seem  gifts  of  supererogation. 

"  Now  imagine  any  burgher  offering  ever  to  pretend  to  these  advan- 
tages, he  will  utterly  fail  ;  and  the  more  completely,  the  greater 
inclination  and  the  more  endowments  nature  may  have  given  him  for 
that  mode  of  being. 

' '  Since,  in  common  life,  the  nobleman  is  hampered  by  no  limits  ; 
since  kings,  or  kinglike  figures,  do  not  differ  from  him,  he  can  every- 
where advance  with  a  silent  consciousness,  as  if  before  his  equals, 
everywhere  he  is  entitled  to  press  forward  ;  whereas  nothing  more 
beseems  the  buigher  than  the  quiet  feeling  of  the  limits  tliat  are 
drawn  round  him.  The  burgher  may  not  ask  himself  :  '  What  art 
thou?'  He  can  only  ask  :  '  What  liast  thou  '?  What  discernment, 
knowledge,  talent,  wealth?'  If  the  nobleman,  merely  by  his  personal 
carriage,  offers  all  that  can  be  asked  of  him,  the'  burgher  by  his 
personal  carriage,  offers  nothing,  and  can  offer  nothing.  The  former 
had  a  right  to  x- , m  ;  the  latter  js  compelled  to  he,  and  what  he  aims 
at  seeming  becomes  ludicrous  and  tasteless.  The  former  does  and 
makes,  the  latter  but  elfects  and  procures :  he  must  cultivate  some 
siiigle  gifts  in  ord^n-  to  Ije  useful,  and  it  is  beforehand  settled,  that  in 
his  manner  of  existence  there  is  no  harmony,  and  can  be  none,  since 
he  is  bound  to  make  himself  of  use  in  one  department,  and  so  has 
to  relinquish  all  the  others. 


218  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  Perhaps  the  reason  of  this  difference  is  not  the  usurpation  of  the 
nobles,  and  the  submission  of  the  burghers,  but  the  constitution  of 
society  itself.  Whether  it  will  ever  alter,  and  how,  is  to  me  of  small 
importance  ;  my  present  business  is  to  meet  my  own  case,  as  matters 
actually  stand  ;  to  consider  by  what  means  I  may  save  myself,  and 
reach  the  object  which  1  cannot  live  in  peace  without. 

"  Now  this  harmonious  cultivation  of  my  nature,  which  has  been 
denied  me  by  birth,  is  exactly  what  I  most  long  for.  Since  leaving 
thee,  I  have  gained  much  by  voluntary  practice  ;  I  have  laid  aside 
much  of  my  wonted  embarrassment,  and  can  bear  myself  in  very 
tolerable  style.  My  speech  and  N'oice  I  have  likewise  been  attending 
to  ;  and  I  may  say,  without  much  vanity,  that  in  society  I  do  not  cause 
much  displeasure.  But  1  will  not  conceal  from  thee,  that  my  inclina- 
tion to  become  a  public  person,  and  to  please  and  influence  in  a  larger 
circle,  is  daily  growing  more  insuperable.  With  this,  there  is  com- 
bined my  love  for  poetry  and  all  that  is  related  to  it  ;  and  the  neces- 
sity I  feel  to  cultivate  my  mental  faculties  and  tastes,  that  so,  in  this 
enjoyment  henceforth  indispensable,  I  may  esteem  as  good  the  good 
alone,  as  beautiful  the  beautiful  alone.  Thou  seest  well,  that  for  me 
all  this  is  nowhere  to  be  met  with  except  upon  the  stage  :  that  in  this 
element  alone  can  I  effect  and  cultivate  myself  according  to  my  wishesr 
On  the  boards,  a  polished  man  appears  in  his  splendor  with  personal 
accomplishments,  just  as  he  does  so  in  the  upper  classes  of  society  ; 
body  and  spirit  must  advance  with  equal  steps.in  all  his  studies  ;  and 
there  I  shall  have  it  in  my  power  at  once  to  be  and  seem,  as  well  as 
anywhere.  If  I  farther  long  for  solid  occupations,  we  have  the  mechan- 
ical vexations  in  abundance  ;  I  may  give  my  patience  daily  exercise. 

"  Dispute  not  with  me  on  this  subject  ;  for  ere  thou  writest,  the 
.step  is  taken.  In  compliance  with  the  ruling  prejudices,  I  will  change 
my  name,  as  indeed  that  of  Meister  or  Master  does  not  suit  me.  Fare- 
well !  Our  fortune  is  in  good  hands  ;  on  that  subject  I  shall  not  dis- 
turb myself.  What  I  need  will,  as  occasion  calls,  require  from  thee  ; 
it  will  not  be  much  ;  for  I  hope  my  art  will  be  sufficient  to  maintain 
me." 

Scarcely  was  the  letter  sent  away,  when  our  friend  made  good  his 
words.  To  the  great  surprise  of  Serlo  and  the  rest,  he  at  once 
declared  that  he  was  ready  to  become  an  actor,  and  bind  himself  by 
a  contract  on  reasonable  terms.  With  I'egard  to  these  the}'  were  soon 
agreed,  for  Serlo  had  before  made  offers,  with  which  Wilhelm  and 
his  comrades  had  good  reason  to  be  satisfied.  The  whole  of  that 
unlucky  company,  wherewith  we  have  had  so  long  to  occupy  our- 
selves, was  now  at  once  received  ;  and  except  perhaps  Laertes,  not  a 
member  of  it  showed  the  smallest  thankfulness  to  Wilhelm.  As  they 
had  entreated  without  confidence,  so  tliey  accepted  without  gratitude. 
Most  of  them  ])referred  as('ribing  their  ajjpointnu'ut  to  the  influence 
of  Philina,  and  directed  their  thanks  to  her.  Meanwhile  the  contracts 
had  l)een  written  out,  and  were  now  a-signing.     At  the  moment  when 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  IV.  219 

our  friend  was  subscribing  his  assumed  designation,  by  some  inex- 
plicable concatenation  of  ideas,  there  arose  before  his  mind's  eye  the 
image  of  tliat  green  in  the  forest,  where  he  lay  wounded  in  Philina's 
lap.  The  lovely  Amazon  came  riding  on  her  gray  palfrey  from  the 
bushes  of  the  wood  ;  she  approached  him,  and  dismounted.  Her 
humane  anxiety  made  her  come  and  go  ;  at  length  she  stood  before 
him.  The  white  surtout  fell  down  from  her  shoulders  ;  her  counten- 
ance, her  form  began  to  glance  in  radiance,  and  she  vanished  from 
his  sight.  He  wrote  his  name  mechanically  only,  not  knowing  what 
he  did,  and  felt  not.  till  after  he  had  signed,  that  Mignon  was  stand- 
ing at  his  side,  was  holding  by  his  arm,  and  had  softly  tried  to  stop 
him  and  pull  back  his  hand. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


One  of  the  conditions  under  which  our  friend  had  gone  upon  the 
stage,  was  not  acceded  to  by  Serlo  without  some  limitations.  Wilhelm 
had  required  that  Hamlet  should  be  played  entire  and  unmutilated  ; 
the  other  had  agreed  to  this  strange  stipulation,  in  so  far  as  it  w^s 
possible.  On  this  point  they  had  many  a  contest ;  for  as  to  what  was 
possible  or  not  possible,  and  what  parts  of  the  piece  could  be  omitted 
without  mutilating  it,  the  two  were  of  very  different  opinions. 

Wilhelm  was  still  in  that  happy  season,  when  one  cannot  under- 
stand how,  in  the  woman  one  loves,  in  the  writer  one  honors,  there 
should  be  anything  defective.  The  feeling  they  excite  in  us  is  so 
entire,  so  accordant  with  itself,  that  we  cannot  help  attributing  the 
same  perfect  harmony  to  the  objects  themselves.  Serlo  again  was 
willing  to  discriminate,  perhaps  too  willing  ;  his  acute  understanding 
could  usually  discern  in  any  work  of  art  nothing  but  a  more  or  less 
imperfect  whole.  He  thought,  that  as  pieces  usually  stood,  there  was 
little  reason  to  be  chary  about  meddling  with  them  ;  that,  of  course, 
Shakespeare,  and  particularly  Hamlet,  would  need  to  suffer  much 
curtailment. 

But  when  Serlo  talked  of  separating  the  wheat  from  the  chaff, 
Wilhelm  would  not  hear  of  it.  "It  is  not  chaff  and  wheat  together," 
said  he  ;  "it  is  a  trunk  with  boughs,  twigs,  leaves,  buds,  blossoms 
and  fruit.  ;'  Is  not  the  one  there  with  the  others,  and  by  means  of 
them'?"'  T6  which  Serlo  would  reply,  that  people  did  not  bring  a 
whole  tree  upon  the  table  ;  that  the  artist  was  required  to  present  his 
guests  with  silver  apples  in  platters  of  silver.  They  exhausted  their 
invention  in  similitudes,  and  their  opinions  seemed  still  farther  to 
diverge. 

Our  friend  was  on  the  borders  of  despair,  when,  on  one  occasion, 
after  much  debating,  Serlo  counseled  him  to  take  the  simple  plan  ; 


220  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

to  makeu  brief  resolutiou,  to  grasp  liis  pen,  to  peruse  tbe  tragedy  ; 
dashing  out  whatever  would  not  answer,  compressing  several  person- 
ages into  one  ;  and  if  he  was  not  skilled  in  such  proceedings,  or  had 
not  heart  enough  for  going  through  with  them,  he  might  leave  the 
task  to  him,  the  manager,  who  would  engage  to  make  short  work 
with  it. 

"That  is  not  our  bargain,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "How  can  you, 
with  all  your  taste,  show  so  much  levity  V  " 

"  My  friend,"  cried  Serlo,  "you  yourself  will  ere  long  feel  it  and 
show  it.  I  know  too  well  how  shocking  such  a  mode  of  treating 
works  is  ;  perhaps  it  never  was  allowed  on  any  theater  till  now.  But 
where  indeed  was  ever  one  so  slighted  as  ours?  Authors  force  us  on 
this  wretched  clipping  system,  aud  the  public  tolerates  it.  How 
many  pieces  have  we,  pray,  which  do  not  overstep  the  measure  of 
our  numbers,  of  our  decorations  and  theatrical  machinery,  of  the 
proper  time,  of  the  fit  alternation  of  dialogue,  and  the  physical 
strength  of  the  actor"?  Aud  yet  we  are  to  play,  and  play,  and  con- 
stantly give  novelties.  Ought  we  not  to  profit  by  our  privilege  then, 
since  we  accomplish  just  as  much  by  mutilated  works  as  by^ntire 
ones'?  It  is  the  public  itself  that  grants  tlie  privilege.  Few  GFer- 
mans,  perhaps  few  men  of  any  modern  nation,  have  a  proper  sense  of 
an  aesthetic  whole  ;  they  praise  and  blame  by  passages  ;  they  are 
charmed  by  passages  ;  and  who  has  greater  reason  to  rejoice  at  this 
than  actors,  since  th^stage  is  ever  but  a  patched  and  piecework 
matter?"; 

"  Is  !  "  cried  Wilhelm  ;  "  but  must  it  ever  be  so?  Must  everything 
that  is  continue  ?  Convince  me  not  that  you  are  right  ;  for  no  power 
on  earth  should  force  me  to  abide  by  any  contract  which  I  had  con- 
cluded with  the  grossest  misconceptions." 

Serlo  gave  a  merry  turn  to  the  business  ;  aud  persuaded  Wilhelm 
to  review  once  more  the  many  conversations  they  had  had  together 
about  Hairnet  ;  and  himself  to  invent  some  means  of  properly  reform- 
ing the  piece. 

After  a  few  days,  which  he  had  spent  alone,  our  friend  returned 
with  a  cheerful  look.  "I  am  much  mistaken,"  cried  he,  "  if  I  have 
not  now  discovered  how  the  whole  is  to  be  managed  :  nay,  I  am  con- 
vinced that  Shakespeare  himself  would  have  arranged  it  so,  Lad  not 
his  mind  been  too  exclusively  directed  to  the  ruling  interest,  and 
perhaps  misled  by  the  novels,  which  furnished  him  with  his  mate- 
rials." 

"  Let  us  hear,"  said  Serlo,  placing  himself  with  an  air  of  solemnity 
upon  the  sofa  ;  "  I  will  listen  calmly  ;  but  judge  with  rigor." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  you,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "only  hear  me.  In  the 
composition  of  this  play,  after  the  most,.accurate  investigation  and 
the  most  mature  reflection,  I  distinguisli(two  classic's  of  objects.  \  The 
first  are  the  grand  internal  rclatitjus  of  the  persons  and  eVenW,  the 
powerful  effects  which  arise  from  the  character.s  and  proceedings  of 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  IV.  221 

the  main  figures  :  these,  I  hold,  are  individually  excellent,  and  the 
order  in  which  they  are  presented  cannot  be  improved.  No  kind  of 
interference  must  be  sufEered  to  destroy  them,  or  even  essentially  to 
change  their  form.  These  are  the 'things  which  stamp  themselves 
deep  into  the  soul ;  which  all  men  long  to  see,  which  no  one  dares  to 
meddle  with.  Accordingly,  I  understand,  they  have  almost  wholly 
been  retained  in  all  our  (iermau  theaters.  But  our  countrymen  have 
erred,  in  my  opinion,  with  regard  to  the  second  class  of  objects,  whicli 
may  be  observed  in  this  tragedy  ;  I  allude  to  the  external  relations  of 
the  persons,  whereby  they  are  brought  from  place  to  place,  or  com- 
bined in  various  ways  by  certain  accidental  incidents.  These  they 
have  looked  upon  as  very  unimportant ;  have  spoken  of  them  only  in 
passing,  or  left  them  out  altogether.  Now,  indeed,  it  must  be  owned, 
these  threads  are  slack  and  slender  ;  yet  they  run  through  the 
entire  piece,  and  bind  together  much  that  would  otherwise  fall  asun- 
der, and  does  actually  fall  asunder,  when  you  cut  them  off,  and 
imagine  you  have  done  enough  and  more,  if  you  have  left  the  ends 
hanging. 

"Among  these  external  relations  I  include  the  disturbances  ini 
Norway,  the  war  with  young  Fortinbras,  the  embassy  to  his  uncle, 
the  settling  of  that  feud,  the  march  of  young  Fortinbras  to  Poland, 
and  his  coming  back  at  the  end  ;  of  the  same  sort  are  Horatio's  return 
from  Wittenberg,  Hamlet's  wish  to  go  thither  the  journey  of  Laertes 
to  France,  his  return,  the  dispatch  of  Hamlet  into  England,  his  cap- 
ture by  pirates,  the  death  of  the  two  courtiers  by  the  letter  which 
they  carried.  All  the.se  circumstances  and  events  would  be  very  fit 
for  expanding  and  lengthening  a  novel  ;  but  here  they  injure  exceed- 
ingly the  unity  of  the  piece,  particularly  as  the  hero  has  no  plan,  and 
are  in  consequence  entirely  out  of  place." 

"For  once  in  the  right  !  "  cried  Serlo. 

"Do  not  interrupt  me,"  answered  Wilhelm  ;  "perhaps  you  will 
not  always  think  me  right,  These  errors  are  like  temporary  props 
of  an  edifice  ;  they  must  not  be  removed  till  we  have  built  a  firm  wall 
in  their  stead.  My  project  therefore  is,  not  at  all  to  change  those 
first-mentioned  grand  situations,  or  at  least  as  much  as  possible  to 
spare  them,  both  collectively  and  individually  ;  but  with  respect  to 
these  external,  single,  dissipated  and  dissipating  motives,  to  cast  them 
all  at  once  away,  and  suhstitute  a  solitary  one  instead  of  them." 

'*And  this?"  inquired  Serlo,  springing  up  from  his  recumbent 
posture. 

"  It  lies  in  the  piece  itself,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "  only  I  employ  it 
rightly.  There  are  disturbances  in  Norway.  You  shall  hear  my 
plan,  and  try  it. 

"After  the  death  of  Hamlet  the  father,  the  Norwegians,  lately 
conquered,  grow  unruly.  The  viceroy  of  that  country  sends  his  son, 
Horatio,  an  old  school  friend  of  Hamlet's,  and  distinguished  above 
every  other  for  his  bravery  and  prudence,  to  Denmark,  to  press  for- 


222  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

ward  the  eciuipiuent  of  the  fleet,  whicli,  imder  the  new  luxurious 
king,  proceeds  but  slowly.  Horatio  has  known  the  former  king, 
having  fought  in  his  battles,  having  even  stood  in  favor  with  him  ;  a 
circumstance  by  which  the  first  ghost  scene  will  be  nothing  injured. 
The  new  sovereign  gives  Horatio  audience,  and  sends  Laertes  into 
Norway  with  intelligence  that  the  fleet  will  soon  arrive,  whilst  Horatio 
is  commissioned  to  accelerate  the  preparation  of  it  ;  and  the  queen, 
on  the  other  hand,  will  not  consent  that  Hamlet,  as  he  wishes,  should 
go  to  sea  along  with  him." 

"  Heaven  be  praised  !  "  cried  Serlo  ;  "  we  shall  now  get  rid  of  Wit- 
tenberg and  the  university,  which  was  always  a  sorry  piece  of  busi- 
ness. I  think  your  idea  extremely  good  ;  for  except  these  two  dis- 
tant objects,  Norway  and  the  fleet,  the  spectator  will  not  be  required 
to  fancy  anything  :  the  rest  he  will  see  ;  the  rest  takes  place  before 
him  ;  whereas  his  imagination,  on  the  other  plan,  was  hunted  over 
all  the  world." 

"You  easily  perceive,"  said  Wilhelm,  "how  I  shall  contrive  to 
keep  the  other  parts  together.  When  Hamlet  tells  Horatio  of  his 
uncle's  crime,  Horatio  counsels  him  to  go  to  Norway  in  his  company, 
to  secure  the  affections  of  the  army,  and  return  in  warlike  force. 
Hamlet  also  is  becoming  dangerous  to  the  king  and  queen  ;  they  find 
no  readier  method  of  deliverance  than  to  send  him  in  the  fleet,  with 
Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  to  be  spies  upon  him  ;  and  as  Laertes 
in  the  meantime  comes  from  France,  they  determine  that  this  youth, 
exasperated  even  to  murder,  shall  go  after  him.  Unfavorable  winds 
detain  the  fleet  ;  Hamlet  returns  ;  for  his  wandering  through  the 
churchyard  perhaps  some  lucky  motive  may  be  thought  of  ;  his  meet- 
ing with  Laertes  in  Ophelia's  grave  is  a  grand  moment,  which  we 
must  not  part  with.  After  this,  the  king  resolves  that  it  is  better  to 
get  quit  of  Hamlet  on  the  spot :  the  festival  of  his  departure,  the 
pretended  reconcilement  with  Laertes,  are  now  solemnized  ;  on  which 
occasion  knightly  sports  are  held,  and  Laertes  fights  with  Hamlet. 
Without  the  four  corpses  I  cannot  end  the  piece  ;  not  one  of  them 
can  possibly  be  left.  The  right  of  popular  election  now  again  conies 
in  force,  and  Hamlet  gives  his  dying  voice  for  Horatio." 

"Quick!  quick!"  said  Serlo;  "sit  down  and  work  the  piece: 
your  plan  has  my  entire  approbation  ;  only  do  not  let  your  zeal  for  it 
evaporate," 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  V.  223 


CHAPTER  V. 

WiLHELM  had  already  been  for  some  time  busied  with  translating 
Hamlet  ;  making  use,  as  he  labored,  of  Wieland's  spirited  perform- 
ance, by  means  of  which  he  had  first  become  acquainted  with  Shake- 
speare. What  in  Wieland  s  work  had  been  omitted  he  replaced  ; 
and  he  had  at  length  procured  himself  a  complete  version,  at  the  very 
time  when  Serlo  and  he  finally  agreed  about  the  way  of  treating  it. 
He  now  began,  according  to  his  plan,  to  cut  out  and  insert,  to  sepa- 
rate and  unite,  to  alter  and  often  to  restore  ;  for,  satisfied  as  he  was 
with  his  own  conception,  it  still  appeared  to  him  as  if  in  executing 
it  he  were  but  spoiling  the  original. 

So  soon  as  all  was  finished,  he  read  his  work  to  Serlo  and  the  rest. 
They  declared  themselves  exceedingly  contented  with  it ;  Serlo,  in 
particular,  made  many  flattering  observations. 

"You  have  felt  very  justly,"  said  he,  among  other  things,  "that 
some  external  circumstances  must  accompany  this  piece  ;  but  that 
they  must  be  simpler  than  those  which  the  great  poet  has  employed. 
What  takes  place  without  the  theater,  what  the  spectator  does  not 
see,  but  must  imagine  for  himself,  is  like  a  background,  in  front  of 
which  the  acting  figures  move.  Your  large  and  simple  prospect  of 
.the  fleet  and  Norway  will  very  much  improve  the  piece  :  if  this  were  ^ 
altogether  taken  from  it,  we  should  have  but  a  family  scene  remain- 
ing ;  and  the  great  idea,  that  here  a  kingly  house  by  internal  crimes 
and  incongruities  goes  down  to  ruin,  would  not  be  presented  with  its 
proper  dignity.  But  if  the  former  background  were  left  standing,  so 
manifold,  so  fluctuating  and  confused,  it  would  hurt  the  impression 
of  the  figures." 

Wilhelm  again  took  Skakespeare's  part  ;  alleging  that  he  wrote 
for  islanders,  for  Englishmen,  who  generally  in  the  distance  were  ' 
accustomed  to  see  little  else  than  ships  and  voyages,  the  coasts  of 
France   and  privateers  ;    and  thus  what   perplexed   and   distracted 
others,  was  to  them  quite  natural. 

Serlo  assented  ;  and  both  of  them  were  of  opinion,  that  as  the 
piece  was  now  to  be  produced  upon  the  German  stage,  this  more  seri- 
ous and  simple  background  was  the  best  adapted  for  the  German 
mind. 

The  parts  had  been  distributed  before  :  Serlo  undertook  Polonius  ; 
Aurelia  undertook  Ophelia  ;  Laertes  was  already  designated  by  his 
name  ;  a  young,  thickset,  jolly  new-comer  was  to  be  Horatio  :  the 
king  and  the  ghost  alone  occasioned  some  perplexity.  For  both  of 
these  there  was  no  one  but  Old  Boisterous  remaining.  Serlo  proposed 
to  make  the  pedant  king  ;  but  against  this  our  friend  protested  in 
the  stronge.st  terms.     Tlaey  could  resolve  on  nothing. 


824  MEISTER'8  APPBENflCESmP. 

Wilhelm  also  had  allowed  both  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  td 
continue  in  bis  piece.  "  Wby  not  compress  tbem  in  one?"  said 
Serlo.     "  Tbis  abbreviation  will  not  cost  you  niucli." 

"  Heaven  keep  me  from  all  such  curtailments  !  "  answered  Wilbelm, 
"  tbey  destroy  at  once  the  sense  and  the  effect.  Wbat  these  two 
persons  are  and  do,  it  is  impossible  to  represent  by  one.  In  such 
small  matters  we  discover  Shakespeare's  greatness.  The  soft  ap- 
proaches, this  smirking  and  bowing,  this  assenting,  wheedling, 
flattering,  this  whisking  agility,  this  wagging  of  tlie"tail,  this  allness 
and  emptiness,  this  legal  knavery,  this  ineptitude  and  insipidity, — 
how  can  they  be  expressed  by  a  single  man  ?  There  ought  to  be  at 
least  a  dozen  of  these  people,  if  they  could  be  had  :  for  it  is  only  in 
society  that  they  are  anything  ;  they  are  society  itself  ;  and  Shake- 
speare showed  no  little  wisdom  and  discernment  in  bringing  in  a  pair 
of  them.  Besides,  I  need  them  as  a  couple  that  may  be  contrasted 
with  the  single,  noble,  excellent  Horatio." 

"  T  understand  you,"  answered  Serlo,  "  and  we  can  arrange  it.  One 
of  them  we  shall  hand  over  to  Elmira,  Old  Boisterous's  eldest 
daughter  ;  it  will  all  be  right,  if  they  look  well  enough,  and  I  will 
deck  and  trim  the  puppets  so  that  it  shall  be  a  pleasure  to  behold 
them." 

Philina  was  rejoicing  not  a  little  that  she  had  to  act  the  Duchess  in 
the  small  subordinate  play.  "  I  will  show  it  so  natural,"  cried  she, 
"  how  you  wed  a  second  without  loss  of  time,  when  you  have  loved 
the  first  immensely.  I  hope  to  gain  the  loudest  plaudits,  and  every 
man  shall  wish  he  were  the  third." 

x\urelia  gave  a  frown  ;  her  spleen  against  Philina  was  increasing 
every  day. 

"  'Tis  a  pity,  I  declare,"  said  Serlo,  "  that  we  have  no  ballet  ;  else 
you  should  dance  me  a  pas  de  deux  with  your  first,  and  then  another 
with  your  second  husband, — and  the  first  might  dance  himself  to 
sleep  by  the  measure  ;  and  your  bits  of  feet  and  ankles  would  look  so 
pretty,  tripping  to  and  fro  upon  the  side  stage." 

"  Of  my  ankles  you  do  not  know  much,"  replied  she  snapynshly  ; 
"and  as  "to  my  bits  of  feet,"  cried  she,  hastily  reaching  below  the 
table,  pulling  off  her  slippers,  and  holding  them  together  out  to 
Serlo  :  "  here  are  the  cases  of  them,  and  I  give  you  leave  to  find  me 
nicer  ones." 

"  It  were  a  serious  task,"  said  he,  looking  at  the  elegant  half -shoes. 
"  In  truth,  one  does  not  often  meet  with  anything  so  dainty." 

They  were  of  Parisian  workmanship  ;  Plulina  had  obtained  them 
as  a  present  from  the  countess,  a  lady  whose  foot  was  celebrated  for 
its  beauty. 

"  A  charming  thing  1"  cried  Serlo  ;  "  my  heart  leaps  at  the  sight 
of  them." 

"  What  gallant  throbs  I "  replied  Philina. 

"There  is  nothing  in  the  world  beyond  a  pair  of  slippers,"  said 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  VL  22t) 

iie  ;  "  of  sucii  pretty  manufacture,  in  tlieir  proper  time  arid  place, 
when " 

Pbiliua  took  her  slippers  from  his  hands,  crying,  "You  have 
squeezed  them  all !  They  are  far  too  wide  for  me  ! "  She  played 
with  them,  and  rubbed  the  soles  of  them  together.  "  How  hot  it 
is  ! "  cried  she,  clapping  the  sole  upon  her  cheek,  then  again  rubbing, 
and  holding  it  to  Serlo.  He  was  innocent  enough  to  stretch  out 
his  hand  to  feel  the  warmth.  "Clip  !  clap  !  "  cried  she,  giving  him 
a  smart  rap  over  the  knuckles  with  the  heel,  so  that  he  screamed 
and  drew  back  his  hand  ;  "  I  will  teach  you  to  use  my  slippers  bet- 
ter. " 

"  And  I  will  teach  you  to  use  old  folk  like  children,"  cried  the 
other  ;  then  sprang  up,  seized  her,  and  plundered  many  a  kiss,  every 
one  of  which  she  artfully  contested  with  a  show  of  serious  reluctance. 
In  this  romping,  her  long  hair  got  loose,  and  floated  round  the  group  ; 
the  chair  overset ;  and  Aurelia,  inwardly  indignant  at  such  rioting, 
arose  in  great  vexation. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Though  in  this  remolding  of  Hamlet  many  characters  had  been 
cut  off,  a  sufficient  number  of  them  still  remained  ;  a  number  which 
the  company  was  scarcely  adequate  to  meet. 

"  If  this  is  the  way  of  it,"  said  Serlo,  "our  prompter  himself  must 
issue  from  his  den,  and  mount  the  stage,  and  become  a  personage 
like  one  of  us." 

"  In  his  own  station,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  I  have  frequently 
admired  him." 

"I  do  not  think,"  said  Serlo,  "that  there  is  in  the  world  a  more 
perfect  artist  of  his  kind.  No  spectator  ever  hears  him  ;  we  upon 
the  stage  catch  every  syllable.  He  has  formed  in  himself,  as  it  were, 
a  peculiar  set  of  vocal  organs  for  this  purpose  ;  he  is  like  a  genius 
that  whispers  intelligibly  to  us  in  the  hour  of  need.  He  feels  as  if 
by  instinct  what  portion  of  his  task  an  actor  is  completely  master  of  ; 
and  anticipates  from  afar  where  his  memory  will  fail  him.  I  have 
known  cases,  in  which  I  myself  had  scarcely  read  my  part  ;  he  said 
it  over  to  me  word  for  word,  and  I  played  happily.  Yet  he  has  some 
peculiarities,  which  would  make  another  in  his  place  quite  useless. 
For  example,  he  takes  such  an  interest  in  the  pieces,  that  in  giving 
any  moving  passage,  he  does  not  indeed  declaim  it,  but  he  reads  it 
with  all  pomp  and  pathos.  By  this  ill  habit  he  has  nonplussed  me 
on  more  than  one  occasion." 

"  As  with  another  of  his  singularities,"  observed  Aurelia.  "he  once 
left  me  sticking  fast  in  a  very  dangerous  passage. " 
Meister — 8 


226  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  How  coiild  this  happen,  with  the  man's  attentiveness  ?  "  said  Wil- 
helm. 

"He  is  so  aifected,"  said  Aurelia,  "by  certain  passages,  that  he 
weeps  warm  tears,  and  for  a  few  moments  h)ses  all  reflection  ;  and  it 
is  not  properly  passages  such  as  we  should  call  affecting  that  produce 
this  impression  on  him  ;  but,  if  I  express  myself  clearly,  the  beauti- 
ful passages,  those  out  of  wliich  the  pure  spirit  of  the  poet  looks 
forth,  as  it  were,  through  open  sparkling  eyes  ;  passages  which  others 
at  most  rejoice  over,  and  which  many  thousands  altogether  overlook." 

"  And  with  a  soul  so  tender,  why  does  he  never  venture  on  the 
stage  ?  " 

"A  hoarse  voice,"  said  Serlo,  "and  a  stiff  carriage  exclude  him 
from  it  ;  as  his  melancholic  temper  excludes  him  from  society.  What 
trouble  have  I  taken,  and  in  vain,  to  make  myself  familiar  with  him  ! 
But  he  is  a  charming  reader  ;  such  another  I  have  never  heard  ;  no 
one  can  observe  like  him  the  narrow  limit  between  declamation  and 
graceful  recital." 

"  The  very  nian  !  "  exclaimed  our  friend,  "the  very  man  !  What 
a  fortunate  discovery  !  We  have  now  the  proper  hand  for  delivering 
the  passage  of  '  The  rugged  Pyrrhus  !' " 

' '  One  requires  your  eagerness, "  said  Serlo,  ' '  before  one  can  employ 
every  object  in  the  use  it  was  meant  for." 

"  In  truth,"  said  Willielm,  "  I  was  very  much  afraid  we  should  be 
obliged  to  leave  this  passage  out  ;  the  omission  would  have  lamed  the 
whole  play." 

' '  Well  !     That  is  what  I  cannot  understand, "  observed  Aurelia. 

"  I  hope  you  may  ere  long  be  of  my  opinion,"  answered  Wilhelm. 
"  Shakespeare  has  introduced  these  traveling  players  with  a  double 
purpose.  The  person  who  recites  the  death  of  Priam  with  such  feel- 
ing, in  the  first  place,  makes  a  deep  impression  on  the  prince  himself  ; 
he  sharpens  the  conscience  of  the  Avavering  youth  :  and,  accordingly, 
this  scene  becomes  a  prelude  to  that  other,  where,  in  the  second  place, 
the  little  play  produces  such  effect  upon  the  King.  Hamlet  sees  him- 
self reproved  and  put  to  shame  by  the  player,  who  feels  so  deep  a 
sympathy  in  foreign  and  fictitious  woes  :  and  the  thought  of  making 
an  experiment  upon  the  conscience  of  his  stepfather  is  in  consequence 
suggested  to  him.  What  a  royal  monologue  is  that,  which  ends  the 
second  act  !     Hoav  charming  it  will  be  to  speak  it ! 

O  what  a  rogue  and  peasant  slave  am  I ! 
Is  it  not  monstrous  tnat  this  plaj-er  here. 
But  in  a  fiction,  in  a  dreum  of  jjassion, 
Could  force  his  soul  so  to  his  <j\vn  conceit, 
That  from  her  working  all  his  visage  wann'd  ; 
Tears  in  his  eyes,  distraction  in  his  aspect, 
A  liroken  voice,  and  his  whole  function  suiting 
With  forms  to  his  conceit  ?    And  all  for  nothing  J 
For  Hecuba  I     What's  Hecuba  to  him, 
*  Or  he  to  Hecuba,  that  he  should  weep  for  her  t 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  VI  227 

"  If  we  can  but  persuade  our  man  to  come  upon  the  stage,"  observed 
"  Aurelia. 

"We  must  lead  him  to  it  by  degrees,"  said  Serlo.  "At  the  re- 
hearsal, he  may  read  the  passage  ;  we  shall  tell  him  that  an  actor 
whom  we  are  expectiug  is  to  play  it  ;  and  so,  by  and  by,  we  shall 
lead  him  nearer  to  the  point. " 

Having  agreed  on  this  affair,  the  conversation  next  turned  upon  the 
Ghost.  Wilhelm  could  not  bring  himself  to  give  the  part  of  the 
living  King  to  the  pedant,  that  so  Old  Boisterous  might  play  the 
Ghost ;  he  was  of  opinion  that  they  ought  to  wait  a  while  ;  because 
some  other  actors  had  announced  themselves,  and  among  these  it  was 
probable  they  would  find  a  fitter  man. 

We  can  easily  conceive,  then,  how  astonished  Wilhelm  must  have 
been,  when  returning  home  that  evening,  he  found  a  billet  lying  on 
his  table,  sealed  with  singular  figures,  and  containing  what  follows  : 

"  Strange  youth  !  we  know  thou  art  in  great  perplexity.  For  thy 
Hamlet  thou  canst  hardly  find  men  enough,  not  to  speak  of  ghosts. 
Thy  zeal  deserves  a  miracle  :  miracles  we  cannot  work  ;  but  some- 
what marvelous  shall  happen.  If  thou  liave  faith,  the  Ghost  shall 
arise  at  the  proper  hour  !  Be  of  courage  and  keep  firm  !  This  needs 
no  answer  :  thy  determination  will  be  known  to  us." 

With  this  curious  slieet  he  liastened  back  to  Serlo,  who  read  it  and 
re-read  it,  and  at  last  declared  with  a  thoughtful  look,  that  it  seemed 
a  matter  of  some  moment  ;  that  they  must  consider  well  and  seriously 
whether  they  could  risk  it.  They  talked  the  subject  over  at  some 
length  ;  Aurelia  was  silent,  only  smiling  now  and  then  ;  and  a  few 
days  after,  when  speaking  of  the  incident  again,  she  gave  our  friend, 
not  obscurely,  to  understand,  that  she  held  it  all  for  a  joke  of  Serlo's. 
She  desired  him  to  ca.st  away  anxiety,  and  to  expect  the  Ghost  with 
patience. 

Serlo,  for  most  part,  was  in  excellent  humor  :  the  actors  that  were 
going  to  leave  liim  took  all  possible  pains  to  play  well,  that  their 
absence  might  be  properly  regretted  ;  and  this,  combined  with  the 
new-fangled  zeal  of  the  others,  gave  promise  of  the  best  results. 

His  intercourse  with  Wilhelm  had  not  failed  to  exert  some  influ- 
ence on  him.  He  began  to  speak  more  abovit  art :  for,  after  all,  he 
was  a  German  ;  and  Germans  like  to  give  themselves  account  of  what 
they  do.  Wilhelm  wrote  down  many  of  their  conversations  ;  which, 
as  our  narrative  must  not  be  so  often  interrupted  here,  we  shall  com- 
municate to  such  of  our  readers  as  feel  an  interest  in  dramaturgic 
matters,  by  some  other  opportunity. 

In  particular,  one  evening,  the  manager  was  very  merry  in  speak- 
ing of  the  part  of  Polonius,  and  how  he  meant  to  take  it  up.  "  I 
engage,"  said  he,  "on  this  occasion,  to  present  a  very  meritorious 
person  in  his  best  aspect.  The  repose  and  security  of  this  old  gen- 
tleman, his  emptiness  and  his  significance,  his  exterior  gracefulness 
g,nd   interior   meanness,   his  frankness  and  sycophancy,  his  sincere 


338  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

roguery  and  deceitful  truth,  I  will  introduce  with  all  due  elegance 
in  their  fit  proportions.  This  respectable,  gray-haired,  enduring, 
time-serving  half -knave  I  will  represent  in  the  most  courtly  style  : 
the  occasional  roughness  and  coarseness  of  our  author's  strokes  will 
further  me  here.  I  will  speak  like  a  book,  when  I  am  prepared 
beforehand  ;  and  like  an  ass,  when  I  utter  the  overflowings  of  my 
heart.  I  will  be  insipid  and  absurd  enough  to  chime  in  with  every 
one  ;  and  acute  enough  never  to  observe  when  people  make  a  mock 
of  me.  I  have  seldom  taken  up  a  part  with  so  much  zeal  and 
roguishness." 

"  Could  I  but  hope  as  much  from  mine  ! "  exclaimed  Aurelia.  "  I 
have  neither  youth  nor  softness  enough  to  be  at  home  in  this  char- 
acter. One  thing  alone  I  am  too  sure  of  ;  the  feeling  that  turns 
Ophelia's  braiu,  I  shall  not  want." 

"  We  must  not  take  the  matter  up  so  strictly,"  said  our  friend. 
"  For  my  sliai'e  I  am  certain  that  the  wish  to  act  the  character  of 
Hamlet  has  led  me  exceedingly  astray,  throughout  my  study  of  the 
piece.  And  now  the  more  I  look  into  the  part,  the  more  clearly  do  I 
see,  that  in  my  whole  form  and  physiognomy,  there  is  not  one  feature 
such  as  Shakespeare  meant  for  Hamlet,  When  I  consider  with  what 
nicety  the  various  circumstances  are  adapted  for  each  other,  I  can 
scarcely  hope  to  produce  even  a  tolerable  effect.'' 

"  You  are  entering  on  your  new  career  with  becoming  conscien- 
tiousness," said  Serlo.  "  The  actor  fits  himself  to  his  part  as  he  can, 
and  the  part  to  him  as  it  must.  But  how  has  Shakespeare  drawn 
his  Hamlet  ?     Is  he  then  so  utterly  unlike  you  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  he  is  fair-haired." 

"  That  I  call  far-fetched,"  observed  Aurelia.  "  How  do  you  infer 
that  ?  " 

"  As  a  Dane,  as  a  Northman,  he  is  fair-haired  and  blue-eyed  by 
descent." 

"  And  you  think  Shakespeare  had  this  in  view?" 

"  I  do  not  find  it  specially  expressed  ;  but,  by  comparison  of  pas- 
sages, I  tliink  it  incontestable.  The  fencing  tires  him  ;  the  sweat  is 
running  from  his  brow  ;  and  the  Queen  remarks  :  '  He's  fat  and  scant 
of  breath.'  Can  you  conceive  him  to  be  otherwise  than  plump  and 
fair-haired  ?  Brown-complexioned  people  in  their  youth  are  seldom 
plump.  And  does  not  his  wavering  melancholy,  his  soft  lamenting, 
his  irresolute  activity,  accord  with  such  a  figure'?  From  a  dark- 
haired  young  man  you  would  look  for  more  decision  and  impetuosity." 

"You  are  spoiling  my  imagination,"  cried  Aurelia;  "  away  with 
your  fat  Hamlets  !  Do  not  set  your  well-fed  prince  before  us  !  Give 
us  rather  any  succedaneum  that  will  move  us,  will  delight  us.  The 
intention  of  the  author  is  of  less  importance  to  us  than  our  own 
enjoyment,  and  we  need  a  charm  that  is  adapted  for  us." 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  VIL  329 


CHAPTER  VII. 

One  evening  a  dispute  arose  among  our  friends  about  the  novel  and 
the  drama,  and  whicli  of  them  deserved  the  preference.  Serlo  said  it 
was  a  fruitless  and  misunderstood  debate  ;  both  might  be  superior  in 
their  kinds,  only  each  must  keep  within  the  limits  proper  to  it. 

"  About  their  limits  and  their  kind,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  I  confess  my- 
self not  altogether  clear." 

"Who  is  so?"  said  the  other;  "and  yet  perhaps  it  were  worth 
while  to  come  a  little  closer  to  the  business." 

They  conversed  together  long  upon  the  matter ;  and  in  fine,  the 
folloiving  wiis  nearly  the  result  of  their  discussion  : 

"In  the  novel  as  well  as  in  the  drama,  it  is  human  nature  and 
human  action  that  we  see.  The  difference  between  these  sorts  of  fic- 
tion lies  not  merely  in  their  outward  form  ;  not  merely  in  the  circum- 
stance that  the  personages  of  the  one  are  made  to  speak,  while  those 
of  the  other  have  cotnmonly  their  history  narrated.  Unfortunately 
many  dramas  are  but  novels,  which  proceed  by  dialogue  ;  and  it  would 
not  be  impossible  to  write  a  drama  in  the  shape  of  letters. 

"  But  in  the  novel,  it  is  chiefiy  sentiments  and  events  th&i  are  exhib- 
ited ;  in  the  drama,  it  is  cJiarncters  and  deeds.  The  novel  must  go 
slowly  forward  ;  and  the  sentiments  of  the  hero,  by  some  means  or 
another,  must  restrain  the  tendency  of  the  whole  to  unfold  itself  and 
to  conclude.  The  drama,  on  the  other  hand,  must  hasten,  and  the 
character  of  the  hero  must  press  forward  to  the  end  ;  it  does  not 
restrain  but  is  restrained.  The  novel-hero  must  be  suffering,  at  least 
he  must  not  in  a  high  degree  be  active  ;  in  the  dramatic  one,  we  look 
for  activity  and  deeds.  Grandison,  Clarissa,  Painela,  the  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,  Tom  Jones  himself,  are,  if  not  suffering,  at  least  retard- 
ing personages  ;  and  the  incidents  are  all  in  some  sort  modeled  by 
their  sentiments.  In  the  drama  the  hero  models  nothing  by  himself  ; 
all  things  withstand  him,  and  he  clears  and  casts  away  the  hindrances 
from  off  his  path,  or  else  sinks  under  them." 

Our  friends  were  also  of  opinion,  that  in  the  novel  some  degree  of 
scope  may  be  allowed  to  chance  ;  but  that  it  must  always  be  led  and 
guided  by  the  sentiments  of  the  personages  ;  on  the  other  hand,  that 
fate,  which,  by  means  of  outward  unconnected  circumstances,  carries 
fonvard  men,  without  their  own  concurrence,  to  an  unforeseen  catas- 
trophe, can  have  i)lace  only  in  the  drama  ;  that  chance  may  produce 
pathetic  situations,  but  never  tragic  ones  ;  fate,  on  the  other  hand, 
ought  always  to  be  terrible  ;  and  is  in  the  highest  sense  tragic,  when 
it  brings  into  a  ruinous  concatenation  the  guilty  man,  and  the  guilt- 
less that  was  unconcerned  with  him. 

These  considerations  led  them  back  to  the  play  of  Hamlet,  and  the 


230  MEISTBR'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

peculiarities  of  its  composition.  The  hero  in  this  case,  it  was  observed, 
is  endovved  more  properly  with  sentiments  than  with  a  character  ;  it 
is  events  alone  that  push  him  on  ;  and  accordingly  the  piece  has  in 
some  measure  the  expansion  of  a  novel.  But  as  it  is  fate  that  draws 
the  plan  ;  as  the  story  issues  from  a  dread  of  terror,  and  the  hero  is 
continually  driven  forward  to  a  deed  of  terror,  the  work  is  tragic 
in  the  highest  sense,  and  admits  of  no  other  than  a  tragic  end. 

They  were  now  to  study  and  peruse  the  piece  in  common  ;  to  com- 
mence what  are  called  the  book-rehearsals.  These  Wilhelm  had  looked 
forward  to  as  a  festival.  Having  formerly  collated  all  the  parts,  no 
obstacle  on  tliis  side  could  oppose  him.  The  whole  of  the  actors  were 
acquainted  with  the  piece  ;  he  endeavored  to  impress  their  minds 
with  the  importance  of  these  book  rehearsals.  "  As  you  require," 
said  he,  "  of  every  musical  performer,  that  he  shall,  in  some  degree, 
be  able  to  play  from  the  book  ;  so  every  actor,  every  educated  man, 
sh«uld  train  himself  to  recite  from  the  book,  to  catch  immediately  the 
character  of  any  drama,  anj-  poem,  any  tale  he  may  have  been  reading, 
and  exhibit  it  with  grace  and  readiness.  No  committing  of  the  piece 
to  memory  will  be  of  service,  if  the  actor  have  not  in  the  first  place 
penetrated  into  the  sense  and  spirit  of  his  author ;  the  mere  letter 
will  avail  him  nothing." 

Serlo  declared,  that  he  would  overlook  all  subsequent  rehearsals, 
the  last  rehearsal  itself,  if  justice  were  but  done  to  these  rehearsals 
from  the  book.  "  For  commonly,"  said  he,  "  there  is  nothing  more 
amusing  than  to  hear  an  actor  speak  of  study  ;  it  is  as  if  Freemasons 
were  to  talk  of  buildings." 

The  rehearsal  passed  according  to  their  wishes  ;  and  we  may  assert, 
that  the  fame  and  favor  which  our  company  acquired  afterwards,  had 
their  foundation  in  these  few  but  well-spent  hours. 

"You  did  right,. my  friend,"  said  Serlo,  when  they  were  alone, 
"in  speaking  to  our  fellow-laborers  so  earnestly  ;  and  yet  I  am  afraid 
they  will  scarcely  fulfill  your  wishes." 

"  How  so?"  asked  Wilhelm. 

"  I  have  noticed,"  answered  Serlo,  "  that  as  easily  as  you  may  set 
in  motion  the  imaginations  of  men,  gladly  as  they  listen  to  your  tales 
and  fictions,  it  is  yet  very  seldom  that  you  find  among  them  any  touch 
of  an  imagination  you  can  call  productive.  In  actors  this  remark  is 
strikingly  exemplified.  Any  one  of  them  is  well  content  to  xinder- 
take  a  beautiful,  praiseworthy,  brilliant  part  ;  and  seldom  will  any 
one  of  them  do  more  than  self-complacently  transport  himself  into 
his  hero's  place,  without  in  the  smallest  troubling  his  head  whether 
other  people  view  him  so  or  not.  But  to  seize  with  vivacity  what  the 
author's  feeling  was  in  writing  ;  what  portion  of  your  individual 
qualities  you  must  cast  off,  in  order  to  do  justice  to  a  part  ;  how  by 
your  own  conviction  that  you  are  become  another  man,  you  may  carry 
with  you  the  convictions  of  the  audience  ;  how  by  the  inward  truth 
of  your  conceptive  power,  you  can  change  these  boards  into  a  temple, 


BOOK  V.  GBAPTEB  VIII  231 

this  pasteboard  into  woods  ;  to  seize  and  execute  all  this  is  given  to 
very  few.  That  internal  strength  of  soul,  by  which  alone  deception 
can  be  brought  about  ;  that  lying  truth,  without  which  nothing  will 
aliect  us  rightly,  have  by  most  men  never  even  been  imagined. 
■  "  Let  us  not  then  press  too  hard  for  spirit  and  feeling  in  our 
friends  !  The  surest  way  is  first  coolly  to  instruct  them  in  the  sense 
and  letter  of  the  piece  ;  if  possible,  to  open  their  understandings. 
Whoever  has  the  talent  will  then,  of  his  own  accord,  eagerly  adopt 
the  spirited  feeling  and  manner  of  expression  ;  and  those  who  have  it 
not,  will  at  least  be  prevented  from  acting  or  reciting  altogether  falsely. 
And  among  actors,  as  indeed  in  all  cases,  there  is  no  worse  arrangement 
than  for  any  one  to  make  pretensions  to  the  spirit  of  a  thing,  wliile 
the  sense  and  letter  of  it  are  not  ready  and  clear  to  him." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Coming  to  the  first  stage  rehearsal  very  early,  Wilhelm  found  him- 
self alone  upon  the  boards.  The  appearance  of  the  place  surprised 
him,  and  awoke  the  strangest  recollections.  A  forest  and  village 
scene  stood  exactly  represented  as  he  once  had  seen  it  in  the  theater 
of  his  native  town.  On  that  occasion  also,  a  rehearsal  was  proceed- 
ing ;  and  it  was  the  morning  when  Mariana  first  confessed  her  love 
to  him,  and  promised  him  a  happy  interview.  The  peasants'  cottages 
resembled  one  another  on  the  two  stages,  as  they  did  in  nature  ;  the 
true  morning  sun,  beaming  through  a  half-closed  window-shutter, 
fell  upon  a  part  of  a  bench  ill-joined  to  a  cottage  door  ;  but  unhap- 
pily it  did  not  now  .enlighten  Mariana's  waist  and  bosom.  He  sat 
down,  reflecting  on  this  strange  coincidence  :  he  almost  thought  that 
perhaps  on  this  very  spot  he  would  soon  see  her  again.  And  alas  ! 
the  truth  was  nothing  more,  than  that  an  after-piece  to  which  this 
scene  belonged  was  at  that  time  very  often  played  upon  the  German 
stage. 

Out  of  these  meditations  he  was  roused  by  the  other  actors  ;  along 
with  whom  two  amateurs,  frequenters  of  the  wardrobe  and  the  stage, 
came  in,  and  saluted  Wilhelm  with  a  show  of  great  enthusiasm.  One 
of  these  was  in  some  degree  attached  to  Frau  Melina  ;but  the  other 
was  entirely  a  pure  friend  of  art ;  and  both  were  of  the  kind  which  a 
good  company  should  always  wish  to  have  about  it.  It  was  diflficult 
to  say  whether  their  love  for  the  stage  or  their  knowledge  of  it  was 
the  greater.  They  loved  it  too  much  to  know  it  perfectly  ;  they 
knew  it  well  enough  to  prize  the  good,  and  to  discard  the  bad.  But 
their  inclination  being  so  powerful,  they  could  tolerate  the  mediocre  : 
and  the  glorious  joy  which  they  experienced  from  the  foretaste  and 
the  aftertaste  of  excellence,  surpassed  expression.     The  mechanical 


232  MEISTEH'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

department  gave  them  pleasure,  tlie  intellectual  charmed  them  ;  aud 
so  strong  was  their  susceptibility,  that  even  a  discontinuous  rehearsal 
afforded  them  a  species  of  illusion.  Deficiencies  appeared  in  their 
eyes  to  fade  away  in  distance  ;  the  successful  touched  them  like  an 
object  near  at  hand.  In  a  word,  they  were  judges  such  as  every 
artist  wishes  in  his  own  department.  Their  favorite  movement  was 
from  the  side  scenes  to  the  pit,  and  from  the  pit  to  the  side  scenes  ; 
their  happiest  place  was  in  the  wardrobe  ;  their  busiest  employment 
was  in  trying  to  improve  the  dress,  position,  recitation,  gesture  of  the 
actor  ;  their  liveliest  conversation  was  on  the  effect  produced  by  him  ; 
their  most  constant  effort  was  to  keep  him  accurate,  active  and  atten- 
tive, to  do  him  service  or  kindness,  and,  without  squandering,  to  pro- 
cure for  the  company  a  series  of  enjoyments.  The  two  had  obtained 
the  exclusive  privilege  of  being  present  on  the  stage  at  rehearsals  as 
well  as  exhibitions.  In  regard  to  Hamlet,  they  had  not  in  all  points 
agreed  with  Wilhelm  ;  liere  and  there  he  had  yielded  ;  but  for  most 
part  he  had  stood  by  his  opinion  ;  and,  upon  the  whole,  these  discus- 
sions had  been  very  useful  in  the  forming  of  his  taste.  He  showed 
both  gentleman  how  much  he  valued  them  ;  and  they  again  predicted 
nothing  less,  from  these  combined  endeavors,  than  a  new  epoch  for 
tlie  German  theater. 

The  presence  of  these  persons  was  of  great  service  during  the 
rehearsals.  In  particular,  they  labored  to  convince  our  players  that, 
throughout  the  whole  of  their  preparations,  the  posture  and  action, 
as  they  were  intended  ultimately  to  appear,  should  always  be  com- 
bined with  the  words,  and  thus  the  whole  be  mechanically  united  by 
habit.  In  rehearsing  a  tragedy  especially,  they  said,  no  common 
movement  with  the  hands  should  be  allowed  :  a  tragic  actor  that  took 
snuff  in  the  rehearsal  always  frightened  them  ;  for,  in  all  probability, 
on  coming  to  the  same  passage  in  the  exhibition  he  would  miss  his 
pinch.  Nay,  on  the  same  principles,  they  maintained  that  no  one 
should  rehearse  in  boots,  if  his  part  were  to  be  played  in  shoes.  But 
nothing,  they  declared,  afflicted  them  so  much  as  when  the  women, 
in  rehearsing,  struck  their  hands  into  the  folds  of  ther  gowns. 

By  the  persuasion  of  our  friends,  another  very  good  effect  was 
brought  about ;  the  actors  all  began  to  learn  the  use  of  arms.  Since 
military  parts  occur  so  frequently,  said  they,  can  anything  look  more 
absurd  than  men  without  the  smallest  particle  of  discipline,  trolling 
about  the  stage  in  captains'  and  majors'  uniforms? 

Wilhelm  and  Laertes  were  the  first  that  took  lessons  of  a  subaltern  : 
they  continued  their  practicing  of  fence  with  the  greatest  zeal. 

Such  pains  did  our  two  amateurs  give  themselves  for  perfecting  a 
company,  which  had  so  fortunately  come  together.  They  were  thus 
providing  for  the  future  satisfaction  of  the  public,  while  the  public 
was  usually  laughing  at  their  taste.  People  did  not  know  what 
gratitude  they  owed  our  friends  ;  ])articularly  for  ])erf()rniing  one 
service,  the  service  of  frequc-.iTly  inijin'ssing  on  the  actor  the  funda- 


BOOK  V.  CHAP T KB  IX.  233 

mental  point,  tliat  it  was  his  duty  to  speak  so  loud  as  to  be  heard. 
In  this  simple  matter,  they  experienced  more  opposition  and  repug- 
nance than  could  have  been  expected.  Most  part  maintained  that 
they  were  heard  well  enough  already  ;  some  laid  the  blame  upon  the 
building  ;  others  said,  one  could  not  yell  and  bellow,  when  one  had 
to  speak  naturally,  secretly,  or  tenderly. 

Our  two  friends  having  an  immeasurable  stock  of  patience,  tried 
every  means  of  undoing  this  delusion,  of  getting  round  this  obstinate 
self-will.  They  spared  neither  arguments  nor  flatteries  ;  and  at  last 
they  reached  tlieir  object,  being  aided  not  a  little  by  the  good  exam- 
ple of  Wilhelm.  By  him  they  were  requested  to  sit  down  in  the 
remotest  corners  of  the  house  ;  and  every  time  they  did  not  hear  him 
perfectly,  to  rap  on  the  bench  with  a  key.  He  articulated  well,  spoke 
out  in  a  measured  manner,  raised  his  tones  gradually,  and  did  not 
overcry  himself  in  the  most  vehement  passages.  The  rapping  of  the 
key  was  heard  less  and  less  every  new  rehearsal  :  by  and  by  the  rest 
submitted  to  the  same  operation  ;  and  at  last  it  seemed  rational  to 
hope,  that  the  piece  would  be  heard  by  every  one  in  all  the  nooks  of 
the  house. 

From  this  example,  we  may  see  how  desirous  people  are  to  reach 
their  object  in  their  own  way  ;  what  need  there  often  is  of  enforcing 
on  them  truths  which  are  self-evident  ;  and  how  difficult  it  may  be  to 
reduce  the  man,  who  aims  at  effecting  something,  to  admit  the  pri- 
mary conditions  under  which  alone  his  enterprise  is  possible. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


The  necessary  preparations  for  scenery  and  dresses,  and  whatever 
else  was  requisite,  were  now  proceeding.  In  regard  to  certain  scenes 
and  passages,  our  friend  had  whims  of  his  own,  which  Serlo  humored, 
partly  in  consideration  of  their  bargain,  partlj^  from  conviction,  and 
because  he  hoped  by  these  civilities  to  gain  Wilhelm,  and  to  lead  him 
according  to  his  own  purposes  the  more  implicitly  in  time  to  come. 

Thus,  for  example,  the  King  and  Queen  were,  at  the  first  audience, 
to  appear  sitting  on  the  throne,  with  the  courtiers  at  the  sides,  and 
Hamlet  standing  undistinguished  in  the  crowd.  "  Hamlet,"  said  he, 
"  must  keep  himself  quiet  ;  his  sable  dress  will  sufficiently  point  him 
out.  He  should  rather  shun  remark  than  seek  it.  Not  till  the  audi- 
ence is  ended,  and  the  King  speaks  with  him  as  with  a  son,  should  he 
advance,' and  allow  the  scene  to  take  its  course. " 

A  formidable  obstacle  still  remained,  in  regard  to  the  two  pictures, 
which  Hamlet  so  passionately  refers  to  in  the  scene  with  his  mother. 
"  We  ought,"  said  Wilhelm,  "to  have  both  of  them  visible,  at  full 
length,  in  the  bottom  of  the  chamber,  near  the  main  door  ;  and  the 


334  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  \ 

former  King  must  be  clad  in  armor,  like  the  Ghost,  and  hang  at  the 
side  where  it  enters.  I  could  wish  that  the  figure  held  its  right  hand 
in  a  commanding  attitude  ;  were  somewhat  turned  away  ;  and  as  it 
were  looked  over  its  shoulder,  that  so  it  might  perfectly  resemble  the. 
Ghost  at  the  moment  when  he  issues  from  the  door.  It  will  produce 
a  great  effect,  when  at  this  instant  Hamlet  looks  upon  the  Ghost,  and 
the  Queen  upon  the  picture.  The  stepfather  may  be  painted  in  rovil 
ornaments,  but  not  so  striking." 

There  were  several  other  points  of  this  sort,  about  which  we  sluill 
perhaps  elsewhere  have  opportunity  to  speak. 

"Are  you  then  inexorably  bent  on  Hamlet's  dying  at  the  end?" 
inquired  Serlo. 

"How  can  I  keep  him  alive,"  said  VVilhelm,  "when  the  whole 
piece  is  pressing  him  to  death  ?  We  gave  already  talked  at  large  on 
that  matter." 

"  But  the  public  wishes  him  to  live." 

"  I  will  show  the  public  any  other  complaisance  ;  but  as  to  this,  I 
cannot.  We  often  wish  that  some  gallant  useful  man,  who  is  dying 
•of  a  chronic  disease,  might  yet  live  longer.  The  family  weep,  and 
conjure  the  physician,  but  he  cannot  stay  him  ;  and  no  more  than 
this  physician  can  withstand  the  necessity  of  nature,  can  we  give 
law  to  an  acknowledged  necessity  of  art.  It  is  a  false  compliance 
with  the  multitude,  to  raise  in  them  emotions  which  they  xcish,  when 
these  are  not  emotions  which  they  ought,  to  feel." 

"Whoever  pays  the  cash,"  said  Serlo,  "may  require  the  ware 
according  to  his  liking. "  •" 

"Doubtless,  in  some  degree,"  replied  our  friend;   "but  a  great 
public  should  be  reverenced,  not  used  as  children  are,  when  peddlers 
wish  to  hook  the  money  from  them.     By  presenting  excellence  to 
the  people,  you  should  gradually  excite  in  them  a  taste  and  feeling 
for  the  excellent ;  and  they  will  pay  their  money  with  double  satis- 
faction, when  reason  itself  has  nothing  to  object  against  this  outlay.v 
The  public  you  may  flatter,  as  you  do  a  well-beloved  child,  to  better,  ^ 
to  enlighten  it ;  not  as  you  do  a  pampered  child  of  quality,  to  perpet^ 
xuate  the  error  you  profit  from." 

In  this  manner,  various  other  topics  were  discussed  relating  to  the 
question  :  What  might  still  be  changed  in  the  piece,  and  what  must 
of  necessity  remain  untouched?  We  shall  not  enter  farther  on  those 
points  at  present ;  but  perhaps  at  some  future  time  we  may  admit 
this  altered  Hamlet  itself  to  such  of  our  readers  as  feel  any  interest 
in  the  subject. 


SOOK  V.  CHAPTER  X.  235 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  main  rehearsal  was  at  length  concluded  ;  it  had  lasted  very 
long.  Serlo  and  Wilhelra  still  found  much  to  care  for  :  notwith- 
standing all  the  time  which  had  already  been  consumed  in  prepara- 
tion, some  highly  necessary  matters  had  been  left  to  the  very  last 
moment. 

Thus,  the  pictures  of  the  kings,  for  instance,  were  not  ready  ;  and 
the  scene  between  Hamlet  and  his  mother,  from  which  so  powerful 
an  effect  was  looked  for,  had  a  very  helpless  aspect,  as  the  business 
stood  ;  for  neither  Ghost  nor  painted  image  of  him  was  at  present 
forthcoming.  Serlo  made  a  jest  of  this  perplexity  :  "  We  should  be 
in  a  pretty  scrape,"  said  he,  "if  the  Ghost  were  to  decline  appearing, 
and  the  guard  had  nothing  to  fight  with  but  the  air,  and  our  prompter 
were  .obliged  to  speak  the  spirit's  part  from  the  side  scenes." 

"  We  will  not  scare  away  our  strange  friend  by  unbelief,"  said 
Wilhelm  :  "doubtless  at  the  proper  season  he  will  come,  and  aston- 
ish us  as  much  as  the  spectators." 

"  Well,  certainly,"  said  Serlo,  "  I  shall  be  a  happy  man  to-morrow 
night,  when  once  this  piece  is  fairly  acted.  It  costs  us  more  arrange- 
ment than  I  dreamed  of." 

"But  none  of  you,"  exclaimed  Philina,  "will  be  happier  than  I, 
little  as  my  part  disturbs  me.  Really,  to  hear  a  single  subject  talked 
of  forever  and  forever,  when,  after  all,  there  is  nothing  to  come  of  it 
beyond  an  exhibition  which  will  be  forgotten,  like  so  many  liundred 
others,  this  is  what  I  have  not  patience  for.  In  Heaven's  name,  not 
so  many  pros  and  cons  !  The  guests  you  entertain  have  always  some- 
thing to  object  against  the  dinner  ;  nay,  if  you  could  hear  them  talk 
of  it  at  home,  they  cannot  understand  how  it  was  possible  to  undergo 
so  sad  a  business." 

"  Let  me  turn  your  illustration,  pretty  one,  to  my  own  advantage," 
answered  Wilhelm.  "Consider  how  much  must  be  done  by  art  and 
nature,  by  traffickers  and  tradesmen,  before  an  entertainment  can  be 
given,  flow  many  years  the  stag  must  wander  in  the  forest,  the  tish 
in  the  river  or  the  sea,  before  they  can  deserve  to  grace  our  table  ! 
And  what  cares  and  consultations  with  her  cooks  and  servants  has  the 
lady  of  the  house  submitted  to  !  Observe  with  what  indifference  the 
people  swallow  the  production  of  the  distant  vintager,  the  seaman 
and  the  vintner,  as  if  it  were  a  thing  of  course.  And  ought  these 
men  to  cease  from  laboring,  providing  and  preparing  ;  ought  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house  to  cease  from  purchasing  and  laying  up  the  fruit  of 
their  exertions,  because  at  last  the  enjoyment  it.affords  is  transitory'? 
But  no  enjoyment  can  be  transitory  ;  the  impression  which  it  leaves- 
is  pemianent ;  and  what  is  done  with  diligence  and  effort,  cnmmuni- 


236  MEISTER'8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

cates  to  the  spectator  a  bidden  force,  of  which  we  cannot  say  how  far 
its  influence  may  reach." 

"  '  Tis  all  one  to  me,"  replied  Philina  ;  "  onlj' here  again  I  may 
observe  that  yon  men  are  constantly  at  variance  with  yourselves. 
With  all  this  conscientious  horror  at  curtailing  Sliakespeare,  you  have 
missed  the  finest  thought  there  was  in  Hamlet ! " 

"  The  finest  ?  "  cried  our  friend. 

"Certainly  the  finest,"  said  Philina ;  "the  prince  himself  takes 
pleasure  in  it." 

"And  it  is?"  inquired  Serlo. 

"If  you  wore' a  wig,"  replied  Philina,  "I  would  pluck  it  very 
coolly  off  you  ;  for  1  think  you  need  to  have  your  understanding 
opened." 

The  rest  began  to  tlunk  what  she  could  mean  ;  the  conversation 
paused.  The  party  arose  ;  it  was  now  grown  late  ;  they  seemed 
about  to  separate.  While  they  were  standing  in  this  undetermined 
mood,  Philina  all  at  once  struck  up  a  song,  with  a  very  graceful, 
pleasing  tune  : 

Sing  me  not  with  such  emotion 

How  the  night  so  lonesome  is  ; 
Pretty  maids,  Tve  got  a  notion 

It  is  the  reverse  of  this. 

For  as  wife  and  man  are  plighted, 

And  the  better  half  the  wife  ; 
So  is  night  to  day  united. 

Night's  the  better  half  of  life. 

Can  you  joy  in  bustling  daytime, 

Daj'  when  none  can  get  his  will  f 
It  is  good  for  work,  for  haytime, 

For  much  other  it  is  ill. 

But  when,  in  the  nightly  glooming, 

Social  lamp  on  table  glows, 
Face  for  faces  dear  illuming. 

And  such  jest  and  joyauce  goes  ; 

When  the  flery,  pert  young  fellow. 

Wont  by  day  to  run  or  ride, 
Whispering  now  some  tale  would  tell  O — 

All  so  gentle  by  your  side  ; 

When  the  nightiniralo  to  lovers 

Lovingly  Iut  souglct  sings, 
Which  for  exiles  mid  sad  rovers  _ 

Like  mere  woe  aud  wailing  rings  : 

With  a  heart  how  lightsome  feeling 

Do  yc  count  the  kindly  clock. 
Which,  twelve  times  deliberate  pealing, 

Tells  you  none  to  night  shall  knock  I 


Therefore,  on  all  fit  occasions, 

•    Mark  it,  maidens,  what  I  sii:„  , 
Every  day  its  own  vexations. 

And  the  night  its  joys  will  bring. 


sing; 


mOK  V.  CHAPTER  X.  237 

Siie  made  a  little  courtesy  on  concluding,  and  Serlo  gave  a  loud 
"  Bravo  !  "  She  scuttled  oflf,  and  left  the  room  with  a  tee-hee  of  laugh- 
ter.    They  heard  her  singing  and  skijjping  as  she  went  downstairs. 

Serlo  passed  into  another  room  ;  Wilhelm  bade  Aurelia  good-night, 
but  she  continued  looking  at  him  for  a  few  moments,  and  said  : 

"  How  I  dislike  that  woman  !  dislike  her  from  my  heart,  and  to 
her  very  slightest  qualities  !  Those  brown  eyelashes,  with  lier  fair 
hair,  which  our  brother  thinks  so  charming,  1  cannot  bear  to  look  at ; 
and  that  scar  upon  her  brow  has  something  in  it  so  repulsive,  so  low 
and  base,  that  I  could  recoil  ten  paces  every  time  I  meet  her.  She 
was  lately  telling,  as  a  joke,  that  her  father,  when  she  was  a  child, 
threw  a  plate  at  lier  head,  of  which  this  is  the  mark.  It  is  well 
that  she  is  marked  in  the  eyes  and  brow,  that  those  about  her  may  be 
on  their  guard." 

Wilhelm  made  no  answer,  and  Aurelia  went  on,  apparently  with 
greater  spleen  : 

"  It  is  next  to  impossible  to  speak  a  friendly  or  civil  word  to  her, 
so  deeply  do  I  hate  her,  with  all  her  wheedling.  Would  that  we 
were  rid  of  her  ?  And  you  too,  my  friend,  have  a  certain  complaisance 
for  the  creature,  a  way  of  acting  towards  her,  that  grieves  me  to  the 
soul  ;  an  attention  that  borders  on  respect  ;  which,  by  Heaven  !  she 
does  not  merit." 

"  Whatever  she  may  be,"  replied  our  friend,  "  I  owe  her  thanks. 
Her  upbringing  is  to  blame  :  to  her  natural  character  1  would  do 
justice." 

"  Character  !  "  exclaimed  Aurelia  ;  "  and  do  you  think  such  a  crea- 
ture has  a  character  ?  O  you  men  !  It  is  so  like  you  !  These  are  the 
women  you  deserve  !  " 

"  My  friend,  can  you  suspect  me?"  answered  Wilhelm.  "I  will 
give  account  of  every  minute  I  have  spent  beside  her." 

"Come,  come,"  replied  Aurelia;  "it  is  late,  we  will  not  quarrel. 
All  like  each,  and  each  like  all  !  Good-night,  my  friend  I  Good-night, 
my  sparkling  bird  of  paradise  !  " 

Wilhelm  asked  how  he  had  earned  this  title. 

"  Another  time,"  she  cried  ;  "another  time.  They  say  it  has  no 
feet,  but  hovers  in  the  air,  and  lives  on  ether.  That,  however,  is  a 
storv,  a  poetic  fiction.  Good-night  !  Dream  sweetlv,  if  you  are  in 
luck  ! " 

She  proceeded  to  her  room  ;  and  he,  being  left  alone,  made  haste  to 
his. 

Half  angrily  he  walked  along  his  chamber  to  and  fro.  The  jesting 
but  decided  tone  of  Aurelia  had  hurt  him  :  he  felt  deeply  how  unjust 
she  was.  Could  he  treat  Philina  with  unkindness  or  ill-nature  ?  She 
had  done  no  evil  to  him  ;  but  for  any  love  to  her,  he  could  proudly 
and  confidently  take  his  conscience  to  witness  that  it  was  not  so. 

On  the  point  of  beginning  to  undress,  he  was  going  forward  to  his 
bed  to  draw  aside  the  curtains,  when,  not  without  extreme  astonish- 


288  MEISfER'S  APPREi^TlCESHiP. 

ment,  he  saw  a  pair  of  women's  slippers  lying  on  tlie  floor  before  it. 
One  of  them  was  resting  on  its  sole,  the  other  on  its  edge.  They 
were  Philina's  slippers  ;  he  recognized  them  but  too  well.  He  thought 
lie  noticed  some  disorder  in  the  curtains  ;  nay,  it  seemed  as  if  they 
moved.     He  stood,  and  looked  with  unaverted  eyes. 

A  new  impulse,  whicli  he  took  for  anger,  cut  his  breath  ;  after  a 
short  pause,  he  recovered,  and  cried  in  a  firm  tone  : 

"Come  out,  Pliilina  !  What  do  you  mean  by  this  ?  Where  is 
your  sense,  your  modesty  ?  Are  we  to  be  the  speech  of  the  house  to- 
morrow ?  " 

Nothing  stirred. 

"  I  do  not  jest,"  continued  he  :  "these  pranks  are  little  to  my 
taste. " 

No  sound  !     No  motion  ! 

Irritated  and  determined,  he  at  last  went  forward  to  the  bed,  and 
tore  the  curtains  asunder.  "Arise,"  said  he,  "if  I  am  not  to  give 
you  up  my  room  to-night." 

With  great  surprise,  he  found  his  bed  unoccupied  ;  the  sheets  and 
pillows  in  the  sleekest  rest.  He  looked  around  ;  he  searched,  and 
searched,  but  found  no  traceS  of  the  rogue.  Behind  the  bed,  the 
stove,  the  drawers,  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  ;  he  sought  with 
great  and  greater  diligence  ;  a  spiteful  looker-on  might  have  believed 
that  he  was  seeking  in  the  hope  of  finding. 

All  thouglit  of  sleep  was  gone.  He  put  the  slippers  on  his  table  ; 
went  past  it  up  and  down  ;  often  paused  before  it  ;  and  a  wicked 
sprite  that  watched  him  has  asserted,  that  our  friend  employed  him- 
self for  several  hours  about  these  dainty' little  shoes  ;  that  he  viewed 
them  with  a  certain  interest  ;  tliat  he  handled  them  and  played  with 
them  :  and  it  was  not  till  towards  morning  that  he  threw  himself  on 
the  bed,  without  undressing,  where  he  fell  asleep  amidst  a  world  of 
curious  fantasies. 

He  was  still  slumbering,  when  Serlo  entered  hastily  :  "  Where  are 
you?"  cried  he:  "still  in  bed?  Impossible!  I  want  you  in  the 
theater  ;  we  have  a  thousand  things  to  do. " 


CHAPTER  XI. 


The  forenoon  and  the  afternoon  fled  rapidly  away.  The  play- 
house was  already  full  ;  our  friend  hastened  to  dress.  It  was  not 
with  the  joy  which  it  had  given  him  when  he  first  essayed  it,  that  he 
now  put  on  the  garb  of  Hamlet  :  lie  only  dressed  himself  that  he 
might  be  in  readiness.  On  joining  the  women  in  the  stage-room, 
they  unanimously  cried  that  nothing  sat  upon  him  right ;  the  fine 
feather  stood  awry,  the  buckle  of  his  belt  did  not  fit  ;  they  began  to 


slit,  to  sew,  and  piece  together.  The  music  started  :  Philina  still 
objected  somewhat  to  his  rut?  ;  Aurelia  had  much  to  say  against  his 
mantle.  "  Leave  me  alone,  good  people,"  cried  he,  "  this  negligence 
will  make  me  like  Hamlet."  The  women  would  not  let  him  go,  but 
continued  trimming  him.  The  music  ceased  ;  the  acting  was  begun. 
He  looked  at  himself  in  the  glass  ;  pressed  his  hat  closer  down  upon 
his  face,  and  retouched  the  painting  of  his  cheeks. 

At  this  instant,  somebody  came  rushing  in  and  cried  :  "  The  Ghost ! 
the  Ghost  ! " 

Wilhelm  had  not  once  had  time  all  day  to  think  of  the  Ghost,  and 
whether  it  would  come  or  not.  His  anxiety  on  that  head  was  at 
length  removed,  and  now  .some  strange  assistant  was  to  be  expected. 
The  stage  manager  canje  in,  inquiring  after  various  matters  :  Wilhelm 
had  no  time  to  ask  about  the  Ghost  ;  he  hastened  to  present  himself 
before  the  throne,  where  King  and  Queen,  surrounded  with  their 
court,  were  already  glancing  in  all  the  splendors  of  royalty,  and  wait- 
ing till  the  .scene  in  front  of  them  should  be  concluded.  He  caught 
the  last  words  of  Horatio,  who  was  speaking  of  the  Ghost  in  extreme 
confusion,  and  seemed  to  have  almost  forgotten  his  part. 

The  intermediate  curtain  was  aloft,  and  Hamlet  saw  the  crowded 
house  before  him.  Horatio  having  spoken  his  address,  and  been  dis- 
missed by  the  King,  pressed  through  to  Hamlet  ;  and,  as  if  present- 
ing himself  to  the  Prince,  he  said  :  '*  The  devil  is  in  harness  ;  he  has 
put  us  all  in  fright." 

In  the  meanwhile  two  men  of  large  stature,  in  white  cloaks  and 
capuches,  were  observed  standing  in  the  side  scenes.  Our  friend, 
in  the  distraction,  embarrassment  and  hurry  of  the  moment,  had 
failed  in  the  first  soliloquy  ;  at  least  such  was  his  own  opinion,  though 
loud  plaudits  had  attended  his  exit.  Accordingly  he  made  his  next 
entrance  in  no  i)leasant  mood,  with  the  dreary  wintry  feeling  of  dra- 
matic condemnation.  Yet  he  girded  up  his  mind  ;  and  spoke  that 
appropriate  passage  on  the  "rou.se  and  wassel,"  the  "heavy-headed 
revel "  of  the  Danes,  with  suitable  indifference  :  he  had,  like  the 
audience,  in  thinking  of  it,  quite  forgotten  the  Ghost ;  and  he  started 
in  real  terror,  when  Horatio  cried  out,  "Look,  my  lord,  it  comes!" 
He  whirled  violently  round  ;  and  the  tall  noble  figure,  the  low  inaudi- 
ble tread,  the  light  movement  in  the  heavy-looking  armor,  made  such 
an  impression  on  him,  that  he  stood  as  if  transformed  to  stone,  and 
could  utter  only  in  a  half- voice  his  :  "  Angels  and  ministers  of  grace 
defend  us  !  "  He  glared  at  the  form  ;  drew  a  deep  breathing  once  or 
twice,  and  pronounced  his  address  to  the  Ghost  in  a  manner  so  con- 
fused, so  broken,  so  constrained,  that  the  highest  art  could  not  have 
hit  the  mark  so  well. 

His  tran.slation  of  this  pa.ssage  now  stood  him  in  good  stead.  He 
had  kept  very  close  to  the  original  ;  in  which  the  arrangement  of  the 
words  appeared  to  him  expnssive of  a  mind  confounded,  terrified  and 
seized  with  horror  ; 


240  MEISTER'S  APPBENTIGESHIP. 

Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  gohlin  damn'd, 

Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven  or  blasts  from  hell, 

Be  thy  intents  wicked  or  charitable. 

Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shape, 

That  I  will  speak  to  thee  :  I'll  call  thee  Hamlet, 

King,  father,  royal  Dane  ;  O  answer  me  !  " 

A  deep  effect  was  visible  in  the  audience.  The  Ghost  beckoned, 
the  Prince  followed  him  amid  the  loudest  plaudits. 

The  scene  changed  ;  and  when  the  two  had  re-appeared,  the  Ghost 
on  a  sudden  stopped,  and  turned  round  ;  by  which  means  Hamlet 
came  to  be  a  little  too  close  upon  it.  With  a  longing  curiosity,  he 
looked  in  at  the  lowered  vizor,  but  except  two  deep-lying  eyes,  and  a 
well-formed  nose,  he  could  discern  nothing.  Gazing  timidly,  he 
stood  before  the  Ghost  ;  but  when  the  first  tones  issued  from  the 
helmet,  and  a  somewhat  hoarse  yet  deep  and  penetrating  voice  pro- 
nounced the  words  :  "  I  am  thy  father's  spirit,"  Wilhelm,  shudder- 
ing, started  back  some  paces,  and  the  audience  shuddered  with  him. 
Each  imagined  that  he  knew  the  voice  ;  Wilhelm  thought  he  noticed 
in  it  some  resemblance  with  his  father's.  These  strange  emotions 
and  remembrances ;  the  curiosity  he  felt  about  discovering  his  secret 
friend,  the  anxiety  about  offending  him,  even  the  theatric  impropriety 
of  coming  too  near  him  in  the  present  situation,  all  this  affected  Wil- 
helm with  powerful  and  conflicting  impulses.  During  the  long 
speech  of  the  Ghost,  he  changed  his  place  so  frequently  ;  he  seemed 
so  unsettled  and  perplexed,  so  attentive  and  so  absent-minded,  that 
his  acting  caused  a  universal  admiration,  as  the  Spirit  caused  a  uni- 
versal horror.  The  latter  spoke  with  a  feeling  of  melancholy  anger 
rather  than  of  sorrow  ;  but  of  anger  spiritual,  slow  and  inexhausti- 
ble. It  was  the  mistemper  of  a  noble  soul,  that  is  severed  from  all 
earthly  things,  and  yet  devoted  to  unbounded  woe.  At  last  he  van- 
ished ;  but  in  a  curious  manner  ;  for  a  thin,  gray,  transparent  gauze 
arose  from  the  place  of  descent  like  a  vapor,  spread  itself  over  him, 
and  sank  along  with  him. 

Hamlet's  friends  now  entered,  and  swore  upon  the  sword.  Old 
Truepenny,  in  the  meantime,  was  so  busy  under  ground,  that 
wherever  they  might  take  their  station,  he  was  sure  to  call  out  right 
beneath  them  :  "  Swear  !"  and  they  started,  as  if  the  soil  had  taken 
fire  below  them,  and  hastened  to  another  spot.  On  each  of  these 
occasions,  too,  a  little  flame  pierced  through  at  the  place  where  they 
were  standing.  The  whole  produced  on  the  spectators  a  profound 
impression. 

After  this,  the  piece  proceeded  calmly  on  its  course  ;  nothing  failed, 
all  prospered  ;  the  audience  manifested  their  contentment,  and  the 
actors  seemed  to  rise  in.  heart  and  spirits  every  scene. 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XIL  341 


CHAPTER  XII. 


The  curtain  fell ;  and  rapturous  applauses  sounded  out  of  every 
corner  of  the  house.  The  four  princely  corpses  sprang  aloft,  and 
embraced  each  other.  Polonius  and  Oi)helia  likewise  issued  from 
their  graves,  and  listened  with  extreme  satisfaction,  as  Horatio,  who 
had  stepped  before  the  curtain  to  announce  the  following  piece,  was 
welcomed  with  the  most  thundering  plaudits.  The  people  would  not 
hear  of  any  other  play,  but  violently  required  the  repetition  of  the 
present. 

"We  have  won,"  cried  Serlo  :  "and  so  not  another  reasonable 
word  this  night !  Everything  depends  on  the  first  impression  :  we 
should  never  take  it  ill  of  any  actor  that,  on  occasion  of  his  first 
appearance,  he  is  provident  and  even  self-willed." 

The  bos-keeper  came  and  delivered  him  a  heavy  sum.  ' '  We  have 
made  a  good  beginning,"  cried  tlie  manager,  "  and  prejudice  itself  will 
now  be  on  our  side.  But  where  is  the  supper  that  you  promised  us  ? 
To  night  we  may  be  allowed  to  relish  it  a  little." 

It  had  been  agreed  that  all  the  party  were  to  stay  together  in  their 
stage  dre.sses,  and  enjoy  a  little  feast  among  themselves.  Wilhelm 
had  engaged  to  have  the  place  in  readiness,  and  Frau  Melina  to  pro- 
vide the  victuals. 

A  room,  which  commonly  was  occupied  by  scene  painters,  had  ac- 
cordingly been  polished  up  as  well  as  possible  ;  our  friends  had  hung 
it  round  with  little  decorations  ;  and  so  decked  and  trimmed  it,  that 
it  looked  half  like  a  garden,  half  like  a  colonnade.  On  entering  it, 
the  company  were  dazzled  with  the  glitter  of  a  multitude  of  lights, 
which,  across  the  vapors  of  the  sweetest  and  most  copious  perfumes, 
spread  a  stately  splendor  over  a  well-decorated  and  well-furnished 
table.  These  preparations  were  hailed  with  joyful  interjections  by 
the  party  :  all  took  their  places  with  a  certain  genuine  dignity  ;  it 
seemetl  as  if  some  royal  family  had  met  together  in  the  kingdom 
of  the  Shades.  Wilhelm  sat  between  Aurelia  and  the  Frau  Melina  ; 
Serlo  between  Philina  and  Elmira  ;  nobody  was  discontented  with 
himself  or  with  his  place. 

Our  two  tlieatric  amateurs,  who  had  from  the  first  been  present, 
now  increased  the  pleasure  of  the  meeting.  While  the  exhibition 
was  proceeding,  they  had  several  times  stepped  round,  and  come  upon 
the  stage,  expressing,  in  the  warmest  terms,  the  delight  which  they 
and  the  audience  felt.  They  now  descended  to  particulars  ;  and  each 
was  richly  rewarded  for  his  efforts. 

With  boundless  animation,  the  company  extolled  man  after  man 
and  passage  after  passage.  To  the  prompter,  who  had  modestly  sat 
down  at  the  bottom  of  the  table,  they  gave  a  liberal  commendation 


242  MEISTEB  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

for  his  "  rugged  Pyrrhus  ;"  the  fencing  of  Hamlet  and  Laertes  was  be- 
yond all  praise  ;  Ophelia's  mourning  had  been  inexpressibly  exalted 
and  affecting  ;  of  Polonius  they  would  not  trust  themselves  to  speak. 

Every  individual  present  heard  himself  commended  through  the 
rest  and  by  them  ;  nor  was  the  absent  Ghost  defrauded  of  his  share 
of  praise  and  admiration.  He  had  played  the  part,  it  was  asserted, 
with  a  very  happy  voice,  and  in  a  lofty  style  ;  but  what  surprised 
them  most  was  the  information  which  he  seemed  to  have  about  their 
own  affairs.  He  entirely  resembled  the  painted  figure,  as  if  he  bad 
sat  to  the  painter  of  it  ;  and  the  two  amateurs  described,  in  glowing 
language,  how  awful  it  had  looked  when  the  spirit  entered  near  the 
picture,  and  stepped  across  before  his  own  image.  Truth  and  error, 
they  declared,  had  been  commingled  in  the  strangest  manner  ;  they 
had  felt  as  if  the  Queen  did  not  really  see  the  Ghost.  And  Frau 
Melina  was  especially  commended,  because  on  this  occasion  she  had 
gazed  upwards  at  the  picture,  while  Hamlet  was  pointing  downwards 
at  the  specter. 

Inquiry  was  now  made  how  the  apparition  could  have  entered. 
The  stage  manager  rei^orted  that  a  back  door,  usually  blocked  up  by 
decorations,  had  that  evening,  as  the  Gothic  hall  was  occupied,  been 
opened  ;  that  two  large  figures  in  white  cloaks  and  hoods,  one  of 
whom  was  not  to  be  distinguished  from  the  other,  had  entered  by 
this  passage  ;  and  by  the  same,  it  was  likely,  they  had  issued  when 
the  third  act  was  over. 

Serlo  praised  the  Ghost  for  one  merit  ;  that  he  had  not  whined 
and  lamented  like  a  tailor  ;  nay,  to  animate  his  son,  had  even  intro- 
duced a  passage  at  the  end,  which  more  beseemed  such  a  hero.  Wil- 
helm  had  kept  it  in  memory  ;  he  promised  to  insert  it  in  his  manu- 
script. 

Amid  the  pleasures  of  the  entertainment,  it  had  not  been  noticed 
that  the  children  and  the  harper  were  absent.  Ere  long  they  made 
their  entrance,  and  were  blithely  welcomed  by  the  company.  They 
came  in  together,  very  strangely  decked.  Felix  was  beating  a  tri- 
angle, Mignon  a  tambourine  ;  the  old  man  had  his  large  harp  hung 
round  his  neck  and  was  playing  on  it  whilst  he  carried  it  before  him. 
They  marched  round  and  round  the  table,  and  sang  a  multitude  of 
songs.  Eatables  were  handed  them  ;  and  the  guests  seemed  to  think 
they  could  not  do  a  greater  kindness  to  the  children  than  by  giving 
them  as  much  sweet  wine  as  they  chose  to  have.  For  the  company 
themselves  had  not  by  any  means  neglected  a  stock  of  savory  flasks, 
presented  by  the  two  amateurs,  which  had  arrived  that  evening 
in  baskets.  The  children  tripped  about  and  sang  ;  Mignon,  in  par- 
ticular, was  frolicsome  beyond  all  wont.  She  beat  the  tambourine 
with  the  greatest  liveliness  and  grace  :  now,  with  her  finger  pressed 
against  the  parchment,  she  hummed  across  it  swiftly  to  and  fro  ; 
now  rattled  on  it  with  her  knuckles,  now  with  the  back  of  her 
hand ;  nay,  sometimes,  with  alternating  rhythm,  she  struck  it  first 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XII.  248 

against  her  knee  and  then  against  her  head  ;  and  anon  twirling  it  in 
her  hand,  she  made  the  shells  jingle  by  themselves  ;  and  thus,  from 
the  simplest  instrument,  elicited  a  great  variety  of  tones.  After  she 
and  Felix  had  long  rioted  about,  they  sat  down  upon  an  elbow-chair 
which  was  standing  empty  at  tlie  table,  exactly  opposite  to  Wilhelm, 

"Keep  oat  of  the  chair!"  cried  Serlo  :  "it  is  waiting  for  the 
Ghost,  I  think  ;  and  when  he  comes  it  will  be  worse  for  j'ou." 

"  I  do  not  fear  him,"  answered  Mignon  ;  "if  he  come,  we  can  rise. 
He  is  my  uncle,  and  will  not  harm  me. "  To  those  who  did  not  know 
that  her  reputed  father  had  been  named  the  Great  Devil  this  speech 
was  unintelligible. 

The  party  looked  at  one  another  ;  they  were  more  and  more  con- 
firmed in  their  suspicion  that  the  manager  was  in  the  secret  of  the 
Ghost.  They  talked  and  tippled,  and  the  girls  from  time  to  time  cast 
timid  glances  towards  the  door. 

The  children,  who,  sitting  in  the  great  chair,  looked  from  over  the 
table  but  like  puppets  in  their  box,  did  actually  at  length  start  a 
little  drama  in  the  style  of  Punch.  The  screeching  tone  of  these 
people  Mignon  imitated  very  well  ;  and  Felix  and  she  began  to  knock 
their  heads  together,  and  against  the  edges  of  the  table,  in  such  a 
way  as  only  wooden  puppets  could  endure.  Mignon,  in  particular, 
grew  frantic  with  gayety  ;  the  company,  much  as  they  had  laughed  at 
her  at  first,  were  in  fine  obliged  to  curl)  her.  But  persuasion  was  of 
small  avail  ;  for  she  now  sprang  up,  and  raved  and  shook  her  taiu- 
bourine,  and  caj^ered  round  the  table.  With  her  hair  flying  out  be- 
hind her,  with  her  head  thrown  back,  and  her  Jimbs,  as  it  were,  cast 
into  the  air,  she  seemed  like  one  of  those-  antique  Maenads,  whose 
wild  and  all  but  impossible  positions  still,  on  classic  monuments, 
often  strike  us  with  amazement. 

Incited  by  the  talents  and  the  uproar  of  the  children,  each  endeav- 
ored to  contribute  something  to  the  entertainment  of  the  night.  The 
girls  gang  several  canons  ;  Laertes  whistled  in  the  manner  of  a  night- 
ingale ;  and  the  pedant  gave  a  symphony  pianissimo  on  the  jews- 
harp.  Meanwhile  the  youths  and  damsels,  who  sat  near  each  other, 
had  begun  a  great  variety  of  games  ;  in  which,  as  the  hands  often 
crossed  and  met,  some  pairs  were  favored  with  a  transient  squeeze, 
the  emblem  of  a  hopeful  kindness.  Madame  Melina,  in  particular, 
seemed  scarcely  to  conceal  a  decided  tenderness  for  Wilhelm.  It 
was  late,  and  Aurelia,  perhaps  the  only  one  retaining  self-possession 
in  the  party,  now  stood  up,  and  signified  that  it  was  time  to  go. 

By  way  of  termination,  Serlo  gave  a  firework,  or  what  resembled 
one;  for  he  could  imitate  the  sound  of  ci'ackers,  rockets  and  fire- 
wheels  with  his  mouth,  in  a  style  of  nearly  inconceivable  correctness. 
You  had  only  to  shut  your  eyes  and  the  deception  was  complete.  In 
the  meantime  they  had  all  risen  ;  the  men  gave  their  amis  to  the 
women  to  escort  them  home.  Wilhelm  was  walking  last  with  Aure- 
lia.    The  stage  manager  met  him  on  the   stairs,  and  said  to  him  ; 


244  MEISTER'8  APPnEKTIGESHIP. 

"  Here  is  the  veil  our  Ghost  vanished  in  ;  it  was  hanging  fixed  to  the 
place  where  he  sank  ;  we  found  it  this  moment." 

"  A  curious  relic  !"  said  our  friend,  and  took  it  with  him. 

At  this  instant  his  left  arm  was  laid  hold  of,  and  he  felt  a  smart 
twinge  of  pain  in  it.  Mignon  had  hid  herself  in  the  place  ;  she  had 
seized  him,  and  bit  his  arm.  She  rushed  past  him,  downstairs,  and 
disappeared. 

On  reaching  the  open  air  almost  all  of  them  discovered  that  they 
had  drunk  too  liberally.     They  glided  asunder  without  taking  leave. 

The  instant  Wilhelm  gained  his  room  he  stripped,  and  extinguish- 
ing his  candle,  hastened  into  bed.  Sleep  was  overpowering  him 
without  delay,  when  a  noise,  that  seemed  to  issue  from  behind  the 
stove,  aroused  him.  In  the  eye  of  his  heated  fancy,  the  image  of  the 
harnessed  King  was  hovering  there  ;  he  sat  up  that  he  might  address 
the  spectre  ;  but  he  felt  himself  encircled  with  soft  arms,  and  his 
mouth  was  shut  with  kisses,  which  he  had  not  force  to  push  away. 


CHAPTER  Xm. 


Next  morning,  Wilhelm  started  up  with  an  unpleasant  feeling,  and 
found  himself  alone.  His  head  was  still  dim  witli  the  tumult,  which 
he  had  not  yet  entirely  slept  off  ;  and  the  recollection  of  his  nightly 
visitant  disquieted  his  mind.  His  first  suspicion  lighted  on  Philina  ; 
but,  on  second  thoughts,  he  conceived  that  it  could  not  have  been  she. 
He  sprang  out  of  bed,  and,  while  putting  on  his  clothes,  he  noticed 
that  the  door,  which  commonly  he  used  to  bolt,  was  now  ajar ; 
though  whether  he  had  shut  it  on  the  previous  night  or  not,  he  could 
not  recollect. 

But  what  surprised  him  most  was  the  spirit's  veil,  which  he  found 
lying  on  his  bed.  Having  brought  it  up  with  him,  he  had  most  pro- 
bably thrown  it  there  himself.  It  was  a  gray  gauze  ;  on  the  hem  of 
it  he  noticed  an  inscription  broidered  in  dark  letters.  He  unfolded  it, 
and  read  the  words  :  "  FoR  the  first  and  the  last  time  !  Fly, 
YOUTH  !  FLY  ! "  He  was  struck  with  it,  and  knew  not  what  to  think 
or  say. 

At  this  moment  Mignon  entered  with  his  breakfast.  The  aspect  of 
the  child  astonished  Wilhelm  ;  we  may  almost  say  frightened  him. 
She  appeared  to  have  grown  taller  overnight ;  she  entered  with  a 
stately,  noble  air  ;  and  looked  him  in  the  face  so  earnestly,  that  he 
could  not  endure  her  glances.  She  did  not  touch  him,  as  at  other 
times,  when,  for  morning  salutation,  she  would  press  his  hand,  or 
kiss  his  cheek,  his  lips,  his  arm,  or  shoulder ;  but  having  put  his 
things  in  order,  she  retired  in  silence. 

The  appointed  time  of  a  first  rehearsal  now  arrived  ;  our  friends 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XIII.  245  . 

assembled,  all  of  them  entirelj-  out  of  tune  from  yester-niglit's 
debauch.  Wilhflm  roused  himself  as  much  as  possible,  that  he 
might  not  at  the  very  outset  violate  the  principles  of  diligence,  which 
he  had  preached  so  lately  with  such  emphasis.  His  practice  in  the 
matter  helped  him  through  ;  foj-  practice  and  habit  must,  in  every 
art,  fill  up  tlie  voids,  which  genius  and  temper,  in  their  fluctuations, 
will  so  often  leave. 

Jiut  in  the  present  case,  our  friends  had  especial  reason  to  admit 
the  truth  of  the  remark,  that  no  one  should  begin  with  a  festivity  any 
situation  that  is  meant  to  last,  particularly  th.at  is  meant  to  be  a  trade, 
a  mode  of  living.  Festivities  are  fit  for  what  is  happily  concluded  ; 
at  the  commencement,  they  but  waste  the  force  and  zeal  which  should 
inspire  us  in  the  struggle,  and  support  us  through  a  long-continued  I 
labor.  Of  all  festivities,  the  marriage  festival  appears  tlie  most 
unsuitable:  calmness,  humility  and  silent  hope  befit  no  ceremony] 
more  than  this. 

So  passed  the  day,  which  to  Wilhelm  seemed  the  most  insipid  he 
had  ever  spent.  Instead  of  their  accustomed  conversation  in  the 
evening,  the  company  began  to  yawn  :  the  interest  of  Hamlet  was 
exhausted  ;  they  rather  felt  it  disagreeable  than  otherwise  that  the 
piece  was  to  be  given  again  next  night.  Wilhelm  showed  the  veil 
which  the  royal  Dane  had  left  ;  it  was  to  be  inferred  from  this,  that 
he  would  not  come  again.  Serlo  was  of  that  opinion  ;  he  appeared 
to  be  deep  in  the  secrets  of  the  Ghost  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  inscription,  "  Fly,  youth  !  fly  !  "  seemed  inconsistent  with  the  rest. 
How  could  Serlo  be  in  league  with  any  one  whose  aim  it  was  to  take 
away  the  finest  actor  of  his  troupe  ? 

It  had  now  become  a  matter  of  necessity  to  confer  on  Boisterous  the 
Ghost's  part,  and  on  the  pedant  that  of  the  King.  Both  declared  that  . 
they  had  studied  these  sulficiently  :  nor  was  it  wonderful ;  for  in  such 
a  number  of  rehearsals,  and  so  copious  a  treatment  of  the  subject,  all 
of  them  had  grown  familiar  with  it ;  each  could  have. exchanged  his 
part  with  any  other.  Yet  they  rehearsed  a  little  here  and  there,  and 
prepared  the  new  adventurers  as  fully  as  the  hurry  would  admit. 
When  the  company  was  breaking  up  at  a  pretty  late  hour,  Philina 
softly  whispered  \\'illielm  as  she  passed  :  "  I  must  have  my  slippers 
back:  thou  wilt  not  bolt  the  door?"  These  words  excited  .some 
perplexity  in  Wilhelm,  when  he  reached  his  chamber  :  they  strength- 
ened the  suspicion  that  Philna  was  the  secret  visitant  :  and  we  our- 
selves are  forced  to  coincide  with  this  idea  ;  particularly  as  the  causes, 
which  awakened  in  our  friend  another  and  a  stranger  supposition, 
cannot  be  disclosed.  He  kept  walking  up  and  down  his  chamber,  in 
no  quiet  frame  :  his  door  was  actually  not  yet  bolted. 

On  a  sudden,  Mignon  rushed  into  the  room  ;  laid  hold  of  him,  and 
cried  ;  "  Master  1  save  the  house  I  It  is  on  fire  !"  Wilhelm  sprang 
through  th*«  door  ;  and  a  strong  smoke  came  rushing  down  upon  him 
from  the  upper  story.     On  the  street  he  heard  the  cry  of  fire  ;  and 


246  MBISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  liarper,  with  his  instrument  in  his  hand,  came  downstairs  breath- 
less through  the  smoke.  Aurelia  hurried  out  of  her  chamber,  and 
threw  little  Felix  into  Wilhelm's  arms. 

"  Save  the  child  !  "  cried  she  ;  "  and  we  will  mind  the  rest." 

Wilhelm  did  not  look  upon  the  danger  as  so  great ;  his  first  thought 
was  to  penetrate  to  the  source  of  the  fire,  and  try  to  stifle  it  before  it 
reached  a  head.  He  gave  Felix  to  the  harper  ;  commanding  him  to 
hasten  down  the  stone  stairs,  which  led  across  a  little  garden  vault 
out  into  the  garden,  and  to  wait  with  the  children  in  the  open  air. 
Mignon  took  a  light  to  show  the  way.  He  begged  Aurelia  to  secure 
her  things  there  also.  He  himself  pierced  upwards  through  the 
smoke  ;  but  it  was  in  vain  that  he  exposed  himself  to  such  danger. 
The  flame  appeared  to  issue  from  a  neighboring  house  ;  it  had  already 
caught  the  wooden  floor  and  staircase  :  some  otlaers,  who  had  hastened 
to  his  help,  were  suffering  like  himself  from  fire  and  vapor.  Yet  he 
kept  inciting  them  ;  he  called  for  water  ;  he  conjured  them  to  dispute 
every  inch  with  the  flame  ;  and  promised  to  abide  by  them  to  the  last. 
At  this  instant,  Mignon  came  springing  up,  and  cried  :  "Master  !  save  , 
thy  Felix  !  The  old  man  is  niad  !  He  is  killing  him."  Scarcely 
knowing  what  he  did,  Wilhelm  darted  downstairs,  and  Mignon  fol- 
lowed close  behind  him. 

On  the  last  steps,  which  led  into  the  garden  vault,  he  paused  with 
horror.  Some  heaps  of  fire- wood  branches,  and  large  masses  of  straw, 
which  had  been  stowed  in  the  place,  were  burning  with  a  clear  flame  ; 
Felix  was  lying  on  the  ground  and  screaming  ;  the  harper  stood 
aside  holding  down  his  head,  and  leaned  against  the  wall.  "  Un- 
happ}'  creature  !  what  is  this  ?  "  said  Wiihelm.  The  old  man  spoke 
not  ;  Mignon  lifted  Felix,  and  carried  him  with  difficulty  to  the  gar- 
den ;  while  Wilhelm  strove  to  pull  the  fire  asunder  and  extinguish 
it ;  but  only  by  his  efforts  made  the  flame  more  violent.  At  last  he 
too  was  forced  to  fly  into  the  garden,  with  his  hair  and  his  eyelashes 
burnt  ;  tearing  the  harper  with  him  through  the  conflagration,  who, 
with  singed  beard,  unwillingly  accompanied  him. 

Wilhelm  hastened  instantly  to  seek  the  children.  He  found  them 
on  the  tlireshold  of  a  summer-house  at  some  distance  :  Mignon  was 
trying  every  effort  to  pacify  her  comrade.  •  Wilhelm  took  him  on  his 
knee  ;  he  questioned  him,  felt  him  ;  but  could  obtain  no  satisfactory 
account  from  either  him  or  Mignon. 

Meanwhile  the  fire  had  fiercely  seized  on  seyeral  houses  ;  it  was 
now  enlightening  all  the  neighborhood.  Wilhelm  looked  at  the  child 
in  the  red  glare  of  the  flames  ;  he  could  find  no  Avound,  no  blood, 
no  hurt  of  any  kind.  He  groped  over  all  the  little  creature's  body  ; 
hut  it  gave  no  sign  of  pain  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  by  degrees  grew 
calm,  and  began  to  wonder  at  the  blazing  houses,  and  express  its 
pleasure  at  the  spectacle  of  beams  and  rafters  burning  all  in  order, 
like  a  grand  illumination,  so  beautifully  there. 

Wilhelm  thought  not  of  the  clothes  or  goods  he  might  have  lost ; 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XTII.  247 

he  felt  deeply  how  inestimable  to  him  was  this  pair  of  human 
beings,  who  had  just  escaped  so  great  a  danger.  He  pressed  little 
Felix  to  his  heart  with  a  new  emotion  ;  Mignon  too  he  was  about  to 
clasp  with  joyful  tenderness,  but  she  softly  avoided  this  ;  she  took 
him  by  the  hand  and  held  it  fast. 

"  Master,"  said  she  (till  the  present  evening  she  had  hardly  ever 
named  him  master  ;  at  first  she  used  to  name  him  sir,  and  afterwards 
to  call  him  father),  "  Master  !  we  have  escaped  an  awful  danger  ;  thy 
Felix  was  on  the  point  of  death." 

By  man.y  inquiries,  Wilhelm  learned  from  her  at  last,  that  when 
they  came  into  the  vault,  the  harper  tore  the  light  from  her  hand, 
and  set  on  fire  the  straw.  That  he  then  put  Felix  down,  laid  his 
hands  with  strange  gestures  on  the  head  of  the  child,  and  drew  a 
knife,  as  if  he  meant  to  sacrifice  him.  That  she  sprang  forward, 
and  snatched  it  from  him  ;  that  she  screamed,  and  some  one  from 
the  house,  who  was  carrying  something  down  into  the  garden,  came 
to  her  help,  but  must  have  gone  away  again  in  the  confusion,  and 
left  the  old  man  and  the  child  alone. 

Two  or  even  three  houses  were  now  flaming  in  a  general  blaze. 
Owing  to  the  conflagration  in  the  vault  no  person  had  been  able  to 
take  shelter  in  the  garden.  Wilhelm  was  distressed  about  his 
friends,  and  in  a  less  degree  about  his  property.  Not  venturing  to 
quit  the  children,  he  was  forced  to  sit,  and  see  the  mischief  spread- 
ing more  and  more. 

In  this  anxious  state  he  passed  some  hours.  Felix  had  fallen 
asleep  on  his  bosom  :  Mignon  was  lying  at  his  side,  and  holding  fast 
his  hand.  The  efforts  of  the  people  finally  subdued  the  fire.  The 
burnt  houses  sank,  with  successive  crashes,  into  hea])s  ;  the  morning 
was  advancing;  the  children  awoke,  and  complained  of  bitter  cold  ; 
even  Wilhelm,  in  his  light  dress,  could  scarcely  brook  the  chillness 
of  the  falling  dew.  He  took  the  young  ones  to  the  rubbish  of  the 
prostrate  building,  where,  among  the  ashes  and  the  embers,  they 
found  a  very  grateful  warmth. 

The  opening  day  collected,  by  degrees,  the  various  individuals  of 
the  party.  All  of  them  had  got  away  unhurt,  no  one  had  lost  much. 
Wilhelm's  trunk  was  saved  among  the  rest. 

Towards  ten  o'clock  Serlo  called  them  to  rehearse  their  Hamlet,  at 
least  some  scenes  of  the  piece,  in  which  fresh  players -were  to  act. 
He  had  some  debates  to  manage,  on  this  point,  with  the  municipal 
authorities.  Th^  clergy  required  that  after  such  a  visitation  of 
Providence  the  playhouse  should  be  shut  for  some  time  ;  and  Serlo, 
on  the  other  hand,  maintained  that,  both  for  the  purpose  of  repair- 
ing the  damage  he  had  suffered  and  of  exhilarating  the  depressed 
and  terrified  spirits  of  the  people,  nothing  could  be  more  in  place 
than  the  exhibition  of  some  interesting  piece.  ,His  opinion  in  the  end 
prevailed  ;  and  the  house  was  full.  The  actors  played  with  singular 
fire,  with  more  of  a  passionate  freedom  than  at  first.     The  feelings 


248  MEISTEB'8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  the  audience  had  been  lieightened  by  the  horrors  of  the  previous 
night,  and  tlieir  appetite  for  entertainment  had  been  sharpened  by 
the  tedium  of  a  wasted  and  dissipated  day  ;  every  one  had  more  than 
usual  susceptibility  for  what  was  strange  and  moving.  Most  of  them 
were  new  spectators,  invited  by  the  fame  of  the  piece ;  they  could 
not  compare  the  present  with  the  preceding  evening.  Boisterous 
played  altogether  in  the  style  of  the  unknown  Ghost  ;  the  pedant, 
too,  had  accurately  seized  the  manner  of  his  predecessor ;  nor  was 
his  own  woeful  aspect  without  its  use  to  him  ;  for  it  seemed  as  if,  in 
spite  of  his  purple  cloak  and  his  ermine  collar,  Hamlet  .were  fully 
justified  in  calling  him  a  "  king  of  shreds  and  patches." 

Few  have  ever  reached  the  throne  by  a  patli  more  singular  than 
his  had  been.  But  altliough  the  rest,  and  especially  Philina,  made 
sport  of  his  preferment,  he  himself  signified  that  the  count,  a  con- 
summate judge,  had  at  the  first  glance  predicted  this  and  much  more 
of  him.  Philina,  on  the  other  hand,  recommended  lowliness  of  mind 
to  him,  saying  she  w^ould  now  and  then  powder  the  sleeves  of  his 
coat,  that  he  might  remember  that  unhappy  night  in  the  castle,  and 
wear  his  crown  with  meekness. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


OuK  friends  had  sought  out  other  lodgings,  on  the  spur  of  the  mo- 
ment, and  were  by  this  means  much  dispersed.  Wilhelra  had  con- 
ceived a  liking  for  the  garden-house,  where  he  had  spent  the  night 
of  the  conflagration.  He  easily  obtained  the  key,  and  settled  himself 
there.  But  Aurelia  being  greatly  hampered  in  her  new  abode,  he 
was  obliged  to  retain  little  Felix  with  him.  Mignon,  indeed,  would 
not  pan  with  the  boy. 

He  had  placed  the  children  in  a  neat  chamber  on  the  upper  floor  : 
he  himself  was  in  the  lower  parlor.  The  young  ones  were  asleep  at 
this  time  :  Willi  elm  could  not  sleep. 

Adjoining  the  lovely  garden,  which  the  full  moon  had  just  risen 
to  illuminate,  the  black  ruins  of  the  fire  were  visible,  and  here  and 
there  a  streak  of  vapor  was  still  mounting  from  them.  The  air  was 
soft,  the  night  extremely  beautiful.  Philina  in  issuing  from  the 
theater  had  jogged  him  with  her  elbow,  and  whispered  something  to 
him,  which  he  did  not  understand.  He  felt  perplexed  and  out  of 
humor  :  he  knew  not  what  he  should  expect  or  do.  For  a  day  or 
two  Philina  had  avoided  him  :  it  was  not  till  to-night  that  she  had 
given  him  any  second  signal.  Unhappily  the  doors,  that  he  was  not 
to  bolt,  were  now  consuined  ;  the  slippers  had  evaporated  into  smoke. 
How  the  girl  would  gain  admission  to  the  garden,  if  her  aim  was  such, 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XIV.  249 

he  knew  not.     He  wished  she  might  not  come  ;  and  yet  he  longed 
to  liave  some  explanation  with  her. 

But  what  lay  heavier  at  his  heart  than  this,  was  the  fate  of  the 
harper,  whom,  since  the  fire,  no  one  had  seen.  Wilhelm  was  afraid 
that,  in  clearing  off  the  rubbish,  they  would  find  him  buried  under 
it.  Our  friend  had  carefully  concealed  the  suspicion  which  he  en- 
tertained, that  it  was  the  harper  who  had  fired  the  house.  The  old 
man  had  been  first  seen,  as  he  rushed  from  the  burning  and  smoking 
floor  ;  and  his  desperation  in  the  vault  appeared  a  natural  consequence 
of  such  a  deed.  Yet,  from  the  inquiry  which  the  magistrates  had  in- 
stituted touching  the  afEair,  it  seemed  likely  that  the  fire  had  not 
originated  in  the  house  where  Wilhelm  lived,  but  had  accidentally 
been  kindled  in  the  third  from  that,  and  had  crept  along,  beneath 
the  roofs,  before  it  burst  into  activity. 

Seated  in  a  grove,  our  friend  was  meditating  all  these  things,  when 
he  heard  a  low  footfall  in  a  neighboring  walk.  By  the  melancholy 
song  which  arose  along  with  it,  he  recognized  the  harper.  He  caught 
the  words  of  the  song  without  difficulty  :  it  turned  on  the  consola- 
tions of  a  miserable  man,  conscious  of  being  on  the  borders  of  in- 
sanity. Unhappily  our  friend  forgot  the  whole  of  it  except  the  last 
verse  • 

Wheresoe'er  m}-  steps  may  lead  me, 

Meekly  at  the  door  I'll  stay  ; 
Pious  hands  will  come  to  feedme, 

A"  d  I'll  wander  on  my  way. 
Each  will  feel  a  touch  of  gladness, 
'  When  my  asred  form  appears  ; 

Each  will  shed  a  tear  of  sadness. 
Though  I  reck  not  of  his  tears. 

So  singing,  he  had  reached  the  garden  door,  which  led  into  an  un- 
frequented street.  Finding  it  bolted,  he  was  making  an  attempt  to 
climb  the  railing,  when  Wilhelm  held  him  back,  and  addressed  some 
kindly  words  to  him.  The  old  man  begged  to  have  the  door  unb- 
locked, declaring  that  he  would  and  must  escape.  Wilhelm  repre- 
sented to  him,  that  he  might  indeed  escape  from  the  garden,  but 
could  not  from  the  town  ;  showing,  at  the  same  time,  what  suspicions 
he  must  needs  incur  by  such  a  step.  But  it  was  in  vain  :  the  old 
man  held  b}-  his  opinion.  Our  friend,  however,  would  not  yield  ;  and 
at  last  he  brought  him  half  by  force,  into  the  garden  house,  in  which 
he  locked  himself  along  with  him.  The  two  carried  on  a  strange 
conversation  ;  which,  however,  not  to  afflict  our  readers  with  repeat- 
ing unconnected  thoughts  and  dolorous  emotions,  we  had  rather  pass 
in  silence  than  detail  at  large. 


250  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Undetermined  what  to  do  with  the  unhappy  man,  who  displayed 
such  indubitable  symptoms  of  madness,  Wilhelm  w-ould  have  been 
in  great  perplexity,  had  not  Laertes  come  that  very  morning,  and 
delivered  him  from  his  uncertainty.  I^aertes,  as  usual,  rambling 
everywhere  ajjout  the  town,  had  happened,  in  some  coffee-house,  to 
meet  with  a  man  who,  a  short  time  ago,  had  suffered  under  violent 
attacks  of  melancholy.  Tliis  person,  it  appeared,  had  been  intrusted 
to  the  care  of  some  country  clergyman,  who  made  it  his  peculiar 
business  to  attend  to  people  in  such  situations.  In  the  present  in- 
stance, as  in  many  others,  his  treatment  had  succeeded  :  he  was  still 
in  town  ;  and  the  friends  of  the  patient  were  showing  hira  the  greatest 
honor. 

Wilhelm  hastened  to  find  out  this  person  :  he  disclosed  the  case  to 
him,  and  agreed  with  him  about  the  terms.  The  harper  was  to  be 
brought  over  to  him,  under  certain  pretexts.  The  separation  deeply 
pained  our  friend  ;  so  used  was  he  to  see  the  man  beside  him,  and  to 
hear  his  spirited  and  touching  strains.  The  hope  of  soon  beholding 
him  recovered,  served  in  some  degree  to  moderate  this  feeling.  The 
old  man's  harp  had  been  destroyed  in  the  burning  of  the  house  :  they 
purchased  him  another,  and  gave  it  to  him  when  he  departed. 

Mignon's  little  wardrobe  had  in  like  manner  been  consumed.  As 
Wilhelm  was  about  providing  her  with  new  apparel,  Aurelia  proposed 
that  now  at  last  they  should  dress  her  as  a  girl. 

"  No  !  no  !  not  at  all  I  "  cried  Mignon  ;  and  insisted  on  it  with  such 
earnestness,  that  they  let  her  have  her  way. 

The  company  had  not  much  leisure  for  reflection  ;  -the  exhibitions 
followed  close  on  one  another. 

Wilhelm  often  mingled  with  the  audience,  to  ascertain  their  feel- 
ings ;  but  he  seldom  heard  a  criticism  of  the  kind  he  wished  ;  more 
frequently  the  observations  which  he  listened  to  distressed  or  angered 
him.  Thus,  for  instance,  shortly  after  Hamlet  had  been  acted  for  the 
first  time,  a  youth  was  telling,  with  considerable  animation,  how 
happy  he  had  been  that  evening  in  the  play-house.  Wilhelm  heark- 
ened, and  was  scandalized  to  learn  that  his  neighbor  had,  on  that 
occasion,  in  contempt  of  those  behind  him,  kept  his  hat  on,  stub- 
bornly refusing  to  remove  it  till  the  piece  was  done  ;  to  which  heroical 
transaction  he  still  looked  back  with  great  contentment. 

Another  gentleman  declared  that  Wilhelm  played  Laertes  very 
well  ;  but  that  the  actor  who  had  undertaken  Hamlet  did  not  seem 
too  happy  in  Iris  part.  This  permutation  was  not  quite  unnatural  ; 
for  Wilhelm  and  Laertes  did  resemble  one  another,  though  in  a  very 
distant  manner. 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XV.  251 

A  third  critic  warmly  praised  his  acting,  particularly  in  the  scene 
with  his  mother  ;  only  he  regretted  much,  that  in  this  fiery  moment, 
a  white  strap  had  peered  out  from  below  the  prince's  waistcoat, 
whereby  the  illusion  had  been  greatly  marred. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  interior  of  the  company,  a  multitude  of  alterations 
were  occurring.  Philina,  since  the  evening  subsequent  to  that  of  the 
fire,  had  never  given  our  friend  the  smallest  sign  of  closer  intimacy. 
She  had,  as  it  seemed  on  purpose,  hired  a  remote  lodging  ;  she  asso- 
ciated with'Elmira,  and  came  seldomer  to  Serlo,  an  arrangement  very 
gratifying  to  Aurelia.  Serlo  continued  still  to  like  her  ;  and  often 
visited  her  quarters,  particularly  when  he  hoped  to  find  Elmira  there. 
One  evening  he  took  Wilhelm  with  him.  At  their  enti'ance,  both  of 
them  were  much  surprised  to  see  Philina  in  the  inner  room,  sitting  in 
close  contact  with  a  young  officer.  He  wore  a  red  uniform  with  white 
pantaloons  ;  but  his  face  being  turned  away,  they  could  not  see  it. 
Philina  came  into  the  outer  room  to  meet  her  visitors,  and  shut  the 
door  behind  her.  "  You  surprise  me  in  the  middle  of  a  very  strange 
adventure,"  cried  she. 

"  It  does  not  appear  so  strange,"  said  Serlo  :  "  but  let  us  see  this 
handsome,  young,  enviable  gallant.  You  have  us  in  such  training, 
that  we  dare  not  show  any  jealousy,  however  it  may  be." 

"  I  must  leave  you  to  suspicion  for  a  time,"  replied  Philina,  in  a 
jesting  tone  ;  "  yet  I  can  assure  you,  the  gallant  is  a  lady  of  my  friends, 
who  wishes  to  remain  a  few  days  undiscovered.  You  shall  know  her 
history  in  due  season  ;  nay,  perhaps  you  sliall  even  behold  the  beauti- 
ful spinster  in  person  ;  and  then  most  probably  I  shall  have  need  of 
all  my  prudence  and  discretion,  for  it  seems  too  likely  that  your  new 
acquaintance  will  drive  your  old  friend  out  of  favor." 

Wilhelm  stood  as  if  transformed  to  stone. '  At  the  first  glance,  the 
red  uniform  had  reminded  him  of  Mariana  ;  the  figure  too  was  hers, 
the  fair  hair  was  hers  ;  only  the  present  individual  seemed  to  be  a 
little  taller. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,"  cried  he,  "let  us  know  something  more 
about  your  friend  ;  let  us  see  this  lady  in  disguise  !  We  are  now 
partakers  of  your  secret :  we  will  promise,  we  will  swear  ;  only  let 
us  see  the  lady  !  " 

"  What  a  fire  he  is  in  ! "  cried  Philina  ;  "  but  be  cool,  be  calm  ;  for 
to-day  there  will  nothing  come  of  it." 

"  Let  us  only  know  her  name  ! "  cried  Wilhelm 

"  It  were  a  fine  secret,  then,"  replied  Philina. 

"  At  least  her  first  name  !  " 

"  If  you  can  guess  it,  be  it  so.  Three  guesses  I  will  give  you  ;  not 
a  fourth.     You  might  lead  me  through  the  whole  calendar."       • 

"Well  !"  said  Wilhelm,  "Cecilia,  then?" 

' '  None  of  your  Cecilias  !  " 

"Henrietta?" 

"  Not  at  all  !  Have  a  care,  I  pray  you  ;  guess  better,  or  your  curi- 
osity will  have  to  sleep  unsatisfied." 


253  MEISTER'8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Wilbelm  paused  and  shivered  :  he  tried  to  speak,  but  the  sound 
died  away  within  him.  "Mariana?"  stammered  he  at  last,  "Mari- 
ana ?  " 

"Bravo!"  cried  Philina.  "Hit  to  a  hair's-breadth  !  "  said  she, 
whirling  round  upon  her  heel,  as  she  was  wont  on-such  occasions. 

Wilhelm  could  not  utter  a  word  ;  and  Serlo,  not  observing  his 
emotion,  urged  Philina  more  and  more  to  let  them  in. 

Conceive  the  astonishn^pnt  of  both,  when  Wilhelm,  suddenly  and 
vehemently  interrupting  their  raillery,  threw  himself  at  Philina's 
feet,  and  with  an  air  and  tone  of  the  deepest  passion  begged  and  con- 
jured her  ;  "  Let  me  see  the  stranger,"  cried  he  ;  "  she  is  mine  ;  she 
is  my  Mariana  !  She  for  whom  I  have  longed  all  the  days  of  my  life  ; 
she,  who  is  still  more  to  me  than  aJl  the  women  in  this  world  !  Go  in 
to  her  at  least,  and  tell  her  that  I  am  here  :  that  the  man  is  here  who 
linked  to  her  his  earliest  love,  and  all  the  happiness  of  his  youth. 
Say  that  he  will  justify  himself,  though  he  left  her  so  unkindly  ;  he 
Avill  pray  for  pardon  of  her  ;  and  will  grant  her  pardon,  whatsoever 
she  may  have  done  to  him  ;  he  will  even  make  no  pretensions  farther, 
if  he  may  but  see  her,  if  he  may  but  see  that  she  is  living  and  in  hap- 
piness. " 

Philina  shook  her  head,  and  said  :  "  Speak  low  !  Do  not  betray  us  ! 
If  the  lady  is  indeed  your  friend,  her  feelings  must  be  spared  ;  for  she 
does  not  in  the  least  suspect  that  you  are  here.  Quite  a  different  sort 
of  business  brings  her  hither  :  and  you  know  well  enough,  one  had 
rather  see  a  specter  than  a  former  lover,  at  an  inconvenient  time.  I 
will  ask  her,  and  prepare  her  ;  we  will  then  consider  what  is  farther 
to  be  done.  To-morrow  I  shall  write  you  a  note,  saying  ■when  you  are 
to  come,  or  whether  you  may  come  at  all.  Obey  me  punctually  ;  for 
I  protest  that,  without  her  own  and  my  consent,  no  eye  shall  see  this 
lovely  creature.  I  shall  keep  my  doors  better  bolted  :  and  with  axe 
and  crow  you  surely  will  not  visit  me." 

Our  friend  conjured  her,  Serlo  begged  of  her  ;  but  all  in  vain  ;  they 
were  obliged  to  yield,  and  leave  the  chamber  and  the  house. 

With  what  feelings  Wilhelm  passed  the  night  is  easy  to  conceive. 
How  slowly  the  hours  of  the  day  flowed  on,  while  he  sat  expecting  a 
message  from  Philina,  may  also  be  imagined.  Unhappily  he  had  to 
play  that  evening  :  such  mental  pain  he  had  never  endured.  The 
moment  his  part  was  done,  he  hastened  to  Philina's  house,  Avithout 
inquiring  whether  he  had  got  her  leave  or  not.  He  found  her  doors 
bolted  :  and  the  people  of  the  house  informed  him  that  mademoiselle 
had  set  out  early  in  the  morning,  in  company  with  a  young  officer  ; 
that  she  had  talked  about  returning  shortly  ;  but  they  had  not  be- 
lievecf  her,  she  having  paid  her  debts,  and  taken  everything  along 
with  her. 

This  intelligence  drove  Wilhelm  almost  frantic.  He  hastened  to 
Laertes,  that  he  might  take  measurrs  for  pursuing  lier,  and,  cost  what 
it  would,  for  attaining  certainty  regarding  her  attendant.      Laertes, 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XVI.  253 

however,  represented  to  him  the  imprudence  of  such  passion  and  cre- 
dulity. "  T  dare  wager,  after  all,"  said  he,  "  that  it  is  no  one  else 
but  Friedrich.  The  boy  is  of  a  high  faniil}',  I  know  ;  he  is  madly  in 
love  with  Philina  ;  it  is  likely  he  has  cozened  from  his  friends  a  fiesh 
supply  of  money,  so  that  he  can  once  more  live  with  her  in  peace  for 
a  while." 

These  considerations,  though  they  did  not  quite  convince  our  friend, 
sufficed  to  make  him  waver.  Laertes  shewed  him  how  imjjrobable 
the  story  was,  with  which  Philina  had  amused  them  ;  reminded  him 
how  well  the  stranger's  hair  and  figure  answered  Friedrich  ;  that  with 
the  start  of  him  by  twelve  hours,  they  could  not  easily  be  overtaken  ; 
and  what  was  more  than  all,  that  Serlo  could  not  do  without  him  at 
the  theater. 

By  so  many  reasons,  Wilhelm  was  at  last  persuaded  to  postpone 
the  execution  of  his  project.  That  night  Laertes  got  an  active  man, 
to  whom  they  gave  the  charge  of  following  the  runaways.  It  was  a 
steady  person,  who  had  often  officiated  as  courier  and  guide  to  travel- 
ing parties,  and  was  at  present  without  employment.  They  gave  him 
money,  they  informed  him  of  the  whole  affair  ;  instructing  him  to  seek 
and  overtake  the  fugitives,  to  keep  them  in  his  eye,  and  instantly  to 
send  intelligence  to  Wilhelm,  when  and  how  he  found  them.  That 
very  hour  he  mounted  horse,  pursuing  this  ambiguous  pair  :  by  which 
exertions  Wilhelm  was,  in  some  degree  at  least,  composed. 


CSAPTEK  XVI. 


The  departure  of  Philina  did  not  make  a  deep  sensation,  either  in 
the  theater  or  in  the  public.  She  never  was  in  earnest  with  any- 
thing :  the  women  universally  detested  her  ;  the  men  rather  wished 
to  see  her  selves-two  than  on  the  boards.  Thus  her  fine,  and  for  the 
stage  even  happy  talents  were  of  no  avail  to  her.  The  other  mem- 
bers of  the  company  took  greater  labor  on  them  to  supply  her  place  : 
the  Frau  Melina,  in  particular,  was  much  distinguished  by  her  dili- 
gence and  zeal.  She  noted  down,  as  formerly,  the  jirinciples  of  Wil- 
helm ;  she  guided  herself  according  to  his  theory  and  his  example  ; 
there  was  of  late  a  something  in  her  nature  that  rendered  her  more 
interesting.  She  soon  acquired  an  accurate  mode  of  playing  ;  she 
attained  the  natural  tone  of  conversation  altogether,  that  of  keen 
emotion  she  attained  in.  some  degree.  She  contrived,  moreover,  to 
adapt  herself  to  Serlo's  humors  ;  she  took  pains  in  singing  fo'i'  his 
pleasure,  and  succeeded  in  that  matter  moderately  well. 

By  the  accession  of  some  other  players,  the  company  was  rendered 
more  complete  :  and  while  Wilhelm  and  Serlo  were  busied  each  in 
his  degree,  the  former  insisting  on  the  general  tone  and  spirit  of  the 


254  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

whole,  the  latter  faithfully  elaborating  the  separate  passages,  a  laud- 
able ardor  likewise  inspired  the  actors,  and  the  public  took  a  lively 
interest  in  their  concerns. 

"  We  are  on  the  right  path,"  said  Serlo  once  ;  "  if  we  can  continue 
thus,  the  public  too  will  soon  be  on  it.  Men  are  easily  astonished  and 
misled  by  wild  and  barbarous  exhibitions  ;  yet  lay  before  them  any- 
thing rational  and  polished,  in  au  interesting  manner,  and  doubt  not 
they  will  catch  at  it. 

' '  What  forms  the  chie#def ect  of  our  German  theater,  what  pre- 
vents both  actor  and  spectator  from  obtaining  proper  views,  is  the 
vague  and  variegated  nature  of  the  objects  it  contains.  You  nowhere 
find  a  barrier,  on  which  to  prop  your  judgment.  In  my  opinion,  it  is 
far  from  an  advantage  to  us,  that  we  have  expanded  our  stage  into  as 
it  were  a  boundless  arena  for  the  whole  of  nature  :  yet  neither  mana- 
ger nor  actor  need  attempt  contracting  it,  until  the  taste  of  the  nation 
shall  itself  mark  out  the  proper  circle.  Every  good  society  submits  to 
certain  conditions  and  restrictions  ;  so  also  must  every  good  theater. 
Certain  manners,  certain  modes  of  speech,  certain  objects  and  fash- 
ions of  i^roceeding,  must  altogether  be  excluded.  You  do  not  grow 
poorer  by  limiting  your  household  expenditure." 

On  these  points  our  friends  were  more  or  less  accordant  or  at  vari- 
ance. The  majority,  with  Wilhelm  at  their  head,  were  for  the  English 
theater  ;  Serlo  and  a  few  others  for  the  Fi-ench. 

It  was  also  settled,  that  in  vacant  hours,  of  which  unhappily  an 
actor  has  too  many,  they  should  in  company  peruse  the  finest  plays 
in  both  these  languages  ;  examining  what  parts  of  them  seemed  best 
and  worthiest  of  imitation.  They  accordingly  commenced  with  some 
French  pieces.  On  these  occasions,  it  was  soon  observed,  Aurelia 
went  away  whenever  they  began  to  read.  At  first  they  supposed  she 
had  been  sick.     Wilhelm  once  questioned  her  about  it. 

"  I  would  not  assist  at  such  a  reading,"  said  she  :  "  for  how  could  I 
hear  and  judge,  when  my  heart  was  torn  in  pieces  ?  I  hate  the  French 
language  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul." 

"  How  can  you  be  hostile  to  a  language,"  cried  our  friend,  "to 
which  we  Germans  are  indebted  for  the  greater  part  of  our  accom- 
plishments ;  to  which  we  must  liecome  indebted  still  more,  if  our 
natural  qualities  are  ever  to  assume  their  proper  form  '!  " 

"  It  is  no  prejudice  !  "  replied  Aurelia  :  "  a  painful  impression,  a 
hated  recollection  of  my  faithless  friend,  has  robbed  me  of  all  enjoy- 
ment in  that  beautiful  and  cultivated  tongue.  How  I  hate  it  now, 
with  my  whole  strength  and  heart  !  During  the  period  of  our  kindliest 
connection,  hl3  wrote  in  German,  and  what  genuine,  powerful,  cordial 
German  !  It  was  not  till  he  wanted  to  get  quit  of  me,  that  he  began 
seriously  to  write  in  French.  I  marked,  I  felt  what  lie  meant.  What 
he  would  have  blushed  to  utter  in  his  mother-tongue,  he  could  by 
this  means  write  with  a  quiet  conscience.  It  is  the  language  of  reser- 
vations, equivocations  and  lies  :  it  is  a  perfidious  language.     Heaveu 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XVI.  255 

be  praised  !  I  cannot  find  another  word  to  express  Xhisperfide  of  theirs 
in  all  its  compass.  Our  poor  treulos,  the  faithlens  of  the  English,  are 
innocent  as  babes  beside  it.  Perfide  means  faithless  with  pleasure, 
with  insolence  and  malice.  How  enviable  is  the  culture  of  a  nation 
that  can  figure  out  so  many  shades  of  meaning  by  a  single  word  ! 
French  is  exactly  the  language  of  the  world  ;  worthy  to  become  the 
universal  language,  that  all  may  have  it  in'  their  power  to  cheat,  and 
cozen,  and  betray  each  other  !  His  French  letters  were  always  smooth 
and  pleasant,  while  you  read  them.  If  you  chose  to  believe  it,  they 
sounded  warmly,  even  passionately;  but  if  you  examined  narrowly, 
they  were  but  phrases,  accursed  phrases  !  He  has  spoiled  my  feeling 
to  the  whole  language,  to  French  literature,  even  to  the  beautiful 
delicious  expressions  of  noble  souls  which  may  be  found  in  it.  I 
shudder  when  a  French  word  is  spoken  in  my  hearing." 

In  such  terms,  she  could  for  hours  continue  to  give  utterance  to 
her  chagrin,  interrupting  or  disturbing  every  other  kind  of  conver- 
sation. Sooner  or  later,  Serlo  used  to  put  an  end  to  such  peevish 
lamentations  by  some  bitter  sally  ;  but,  hy  this  means,  commonly  the 
talk  for  the  evening  was  destroyed. 

In  all  provinces  of  life,  it  is  unhappily  the  case,  that  whatever  is  to 
be  accomplished  by  a  number  of  co-operating  men  and  circumstances, 
cannot  long  continue  perfect.  Of  an  acting  company  as  well  as  of  a 
kingdom,  of  a  circle  of  friends  as  well  as  of  an  army,  you  may  com- 
monly select  the  moment  when  it  may  be  said  that  all  was  standing 
on  the  highest  pinnacle  of  harmony,  perfection,  contentment  and 
activity.  But  alterations  will  ere  long  occur  :  the  individuals  that 
compose  the  body  often  change  ;  new  members  are  added  ;  the  per- 
sons are  no  longer  suited  to  the  circumstances,  or  the  circumstances 
to  the  persons  ;  what  was  formerly  united,  quickly  falls  asunder. 
Thus  it  was  with  Serlo's  company.  For  a  time,  you  might  have 
called  it  as  complete  as  any  German  company  could  ever  boast  of 
being.  Most  of  the  actors  were  occupying  their  proper  places  ;  all 
had  enough  to  do,  and  all  did  it  willingly.  Their  private  personal 
condition  was  not  bad  ;  and  each  appeared  to  promise  great  things  in 
his  art,  for  each  commenced  with  animation  and  alacrity.  But  it 
soon  became  apparent  that  a  part  of  them  were  mere  automatons, 
who  could  not  reach  beyond  what  was  attainable  without  the  aid  of 
feeling.  Nor  was  it  long  till  grudgings  and  envyings  arose  among 
them,  such  as  commonly  obstruct  every  good  arrangement,  and  easily 
distort  and  tear  in  pieces  everything  that  reasonable*  and  thinking 
men  would  wish  to  keep  united. 

The  departure  of  Phi  Una  was  not  quite  so  insignificant  as  it  had  at 
first  appeared.  She  had  always  skillfully  contrived  to  entertain  the 
manager,  and  keep  the  others  in  good  humor.  She  had  endured 
Aurelia's  violence  with  amazing  patience  ;  and  her  dearest  task  had 
been  to  flatter  \yilhelm.  Then  she  was,  in  some  respects,  a  bond  of 
anion  for  the  whole  :  the  loss  of  her  was  quickly  felt. 


S66  MEISTEW 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Serlo  could  not  live  without  some  little  passion  of  the  love  sort, 
Elmira  was  of  late  grown  up,  we  might  almost  say  grown  beautiful : 
for  some  time  she  had  been  attracting  his  attention,  and  Philina,  with 
her  usual  dexterity,  had  favored  this  attachment  so  soon  as  she  ob- 
served it.  "  We  should  train  ourselves  in  time,"  she  would  say,  "  to 
the  business  of  procuress  ;  nothing  else  remains  for  us  when  we  are 
old."  Serlo  and  Elmira  had  by  this  means  so  approximated  to  each 
other,  that,  shortly  after  the  departure  of  Philina,  both  were  of  a 
mind  ;  and  their  small  romance  was  rendered  doubly  interesting,  as 
they  had  to  hide  it  sedulously  from  the  father  ;  Old  Boisterous  not 
understanding  jokes  of  that  description.  Elmira's  sister  had  been 
admitted  to  the  secret  :  and  Serlo  was  in  consequence  obliged  to  over- 
look a  multitude  of  things  in  both  of  them.  One  of  their  worst  habits 
was  an  excessive  love  of  junketing,  nay,  if  you  will,  an  intolerable 
gluttony.  In  this  respect  they  altogether  differed  from  Philina,  to 
whom  it  gave  a  new  tint  of  loveliness,  that  she  seemed  as  it  were  to 
live  on  air  ;  eating  very  little  ;  and  for  drink,  merely  skimming  off, 
with  all  imaginable  grace,  the  foam  from  a  glass  of  champagne. 

Now,  however,  Serlo,  if  he  meant  to  please  his  doxies,  was  obliged 
to  join  breakfast  with  dinner  ;  and  with  this,  by  a  substantial  bever, 
to  connect  the  supper.  But  amid  gormandizing,  Serlo  entertained 
another  plan,  which  he  longed  to  have  fulfilled.  He  imagined  that 
he  saw  a  kind  of  inclination  between  Wilhelm  and  Aurelia  ;  and  he 
anxiously  wished  that  it  might  assume  a  serious  shape.  He  hoped 
to  cast  the  whole  mechanical  department  of  his  theatrical  economy 
on  Wilhelm's  shoulders  ;  to  find  in  him,  as  in  the  former  brother,  a 
faithful  and  industrious  tool.  Already  he  had,  by  degrees,  sliifted 
over  to  him  most  of  the  cares  of  management  :  Aurelia  kept  the 
strong-box  ;  and  Serlo  once  more  lived  as  he  had  done  of  old,  entirely 
according  to  his  humor.  Yet  there  was  a  circumstance  which  vexed 
him  in  secret,  as  it  did  his  sister  likewise. 

The  world  has  a  particular  way  of  acting  towards  public  persons 
of  acknowledged  merit  ;  it  gradually  begins  to  be  indifferent  to  them  ; 
and  to  favor  talents  which  are  new,  though  far  inferior  ;  it  makes 
excessive  requisitions  of  the  former,  and  accepts  of  anything  w-ith 
approbation  from  the  latter. 

Serlo  and  Aurelia  had  opportunity  enough  to  meditate  on  this  pecu- 
liarity. The  strangers,  especially  the  young  and  handsome  ones,  had 
drawn  the  whole  attention  and  applause  upon  themselves  ;  and  Serlo 
and  his  sister,  in  spite  of  the  most  zealous  efforts,  had  in  general  to 
make  their  exits  without  the  welcome  sound  of  clapping  hands.  It  is 
true,  some  special  causes  were  at  work  on  this  occasion.  Aurelia's 
pride  was  jjalpable,  and  her  contempt  for  the  public  was  known  to 
many.  Serlo,  indeed,  flattered  every  individual  ;  but  his  cutting  gibes 
against  the  whole  were  often  circulated  and  repeated.  The  new  mem- 
bers again  were  not  only  strangers,  unknown  and  wanting  help,  but 
some  of  thera  were  likewise  young  and  amiable  ;  thus  all  of  them 
found  patrons. 


JBOOK  V,  CHAPTER  XVt.  257 

Ere  long,  too,  there  arose  internal  discontents  and  many  Ijickerings 
among  the  actors.  Scarcely  had  they  noticed  that  our  friend  was 
acting  as  director,  when  most  of  them  began  to  grow  the  more  remiss, 
the  more  he  strove  to  introduce  a  better  order,  greater  accuracy,  and 
chiedy  to  insist  that  everything  mechanical  should  be  performed  in 
the  most  strict  and  regular  manner. 

Thus,  by  and  by,  the  whole  concern,  which  actually  for  a  time  had 
nearly  looked  ideal,  grew  as  vulgar  in  its  attributes  as  any  mere 
itinerating  theater.  And  unhappily,  just  as  Wilhelm,  l)y  his  labor, 
diligence  and  vigorous  efforts,  had  made  himself  acquainted  with  the 
requisitions  of  the  art,  and  trained  completely  both  his  person  and  his 
habits  to  comply  with  them,  he  began  to  feel,  in  melancholy  hours, 
that  this  craft  deserved  the  necessary  outlay  of  time  and  talents  less 
than  any  other.  The  task  was  burdensome,  the  recompense  was 
small.  He  would  rather  have  engaged  with  any  occupation  in  which, 
when  the  period  of  exertion  is  past,  one  can  enjoy  repose  of  mind, 
than  with  this,  wherein,  after  undergoing  much  mechanical  drudgery, 
the  aim  of  one's  activity  cannot  still  be  attained  but  by  the  strongest 
effort  of  thought  and  emotion.  Besides,  he  had  to  listen  to  Aurelia's 
complaints  about  her  brother's  wastefulness  ;  he  had  to  misconceive 
the  winks  and  nods  of  Serlo,  trying  from  afar  to  lead  him  to  a  mar- 
riage with  Aui'elia.  He  had  withal  to  hide  his  own  secret  sorrow, 
which  pressed  heavy  on  his  heart,  because  of  that  ambiguous  officer, 
whom  he  had  sent  in  quest  of.  The  messenger  returned  not,  sent  no 
tidings,  and  Wilhelm  feared  that  his  Mariana  was  lost  to  him  a  second 
time. 

About  this  period  there  occurred  a  public  mourning,  which  obliged 
our  friends  to  shut  their  theater  for  several  weeks.  Wilhelm  seized 
this  opportunity  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  clergyman,  with  whom  the 
harper  had  been  placed  to  board.  He  found  him  in  a  pleasant  dis- 
trict ;  and  the  first  thing  that  he  noticed  in  the  parsonage,  was  the  old 
man  teaching  a  boy  to  play  iipon  his  instrument.  The  harper  showed 
no  little  joy  at  sight  of  Wilhelm  ;  he  rose,  held  out  his  hand,  and 
said  :  "  You  see,  I  am  still  good  for  something  in  the  world  ;  permit 
me  to  continue ;  for  my  hours  are  all  distributed,  and  full  of  busi- 
ness." 

The  clergyman  saluted  Wilhelm  very  kindly  ;  and  told  him  that  the 
harper  promised  well,  already  giving  hopes  of  a  complete  recovery. 

Their  conversation  naturally  turned  upon  the  various  modes  of 
treating  the  insane. 

"  Except  pliysical  derangements,"  observed  the  clergyman,  "  which 
often  place  insuperable  difficulties  in  the  way,  and  in  regard  to  which 
I  follow  the  prescriptions  of  a  wise  physician,  the  means  of  curing 
madness  seem  to  me  extremely  simple.  Tliey  are  the  very  means  by 
which  you  hinder  sane  persons  from  becoming  mad.  Awaken  their 
activity  ;  accustom  them  to  order  ;  bring  them  to  perceive  that  they 
hold  their  being  and  their  fate  in  common  with  many  millions  ;  that 
Meister — 9 


258     '  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

extraordinary  talents,  tlie  liiglaest  happiness,  the  deepest  misery,  are 
but  sliglit  variations  from  the  general  lot  ;  in  this  way,  no  insanity 
will  enter  ;  or,  if  it  has  entered,  will  gradually  disappear.  I  have 
portioned  out  the  old  man's  hours  ;  he  gives  lessons  to  some  children 
on  the  harp  ;  he  worlds  in  the  garden  ;  he  is  already  much  more  cheer- 
ful. He  wishes  to  enjoy  the  cabbages  he  plants  ;  my  son,  to  whom 
in  case  of  death  he  has  bequeathed  his  harp,  he  is  ardent  to  instruct, 
that  the  boy  may  be  able  to  make  use  of  his  inheritance.  I  have  said 
but  little  to  him,  as  a  clergyman,  about  his  wild,  mysterious  scruples  ; 
but  a  busy  life  brings  on  so  many  incidents,  that  ere  long  he  must 
feel  how  true  it  is,  that  doubt  of  any  kind  can  be  removed  by  nothing 
but  activity.  I  go  softly  to  work  ;  yet  if  I  could  get  his  beard  and 
hood  removed,  I  should  reckon  it  a  weighty  point  ;  for  notliing  more 
exposes  us  to  madness  than  distinguishing  ourselves  from  others,  and 
nothing  more  contril^utes  to  maintain  our  common  sense,  than  living 
in  the  universal  way  with  multitudes  of  men.  Alas  !  how  much 
there  is  in  education,  in  our  social  institutions,  to  prepare  us  and  our 
children  for  insanity  ! " 

Wilhelm  stayed  some  days  with  this  iutelligen.t  divine  ;  heard 
from  him  many  curious  narratives,  not  of  the  insane  alone,  but  of 
persons  such  as  commonly  are  reckoned  wise  and  rational,  though 
they  may  have  peculiarities  which  border  on  insanity. 

The  converstion  became  doubly  animated  on  the  entrance  of  the 
doctor,  with  whom  it  was  a  custom  to  pay  frequent  visits  to  his  friend 
the  clergyman,  and  to  assist  him  in  his  labors  of  humanity.  The 
physician  was  an  oldisli  man,  who,  though  in  weak  healtli,  liad  spent 
many  years  in  the  practice  of  the  noblest  virtues.  He  was  a  strong 
advocate  for  country  life,  being  himself  scarcely  able  to  exist  except 
in  the  open  air.  Withal  he  was  extremely  active  and  companion- 
able. For  several  years  he  had  shown  a  special  inclination  to  make 
friends  with  all  the  country  clergymen  within  his  reach.  Such  of 
these  as  were  employed  in  any  useful  occupation  he  strove  by  every 
means  to  help  ;  into  others,  who  were  still  unsettled  in  their  aims, 
he  endeavored  to  infuse  a  taste  for  some  profitable  species  of  exer- 
tion. Being  at  the  same  time  in  connection  with  a  multitude  of 
noblemen,  magistrates,  judges,  he  had  in  the  space  of  twenty  years, 
in  secret,  accomplished  much  towards  the  advancement  of  many 
branches  of  husbandry  ;  he  had  done  his  best  to  ])ut  in  motion  every 
project  that  seemed  capable  of  benefiting  agriculture,  animals  or 
men  ;  and  had  thus  forwarded  improvement  in  its  truest  sense. 
"For  man,"  he  used  to  say,  "there  is  but  one  misfortune:  when 
some  idea  lays  hold  of  him  which  exerts  no  influence  upon  active 
life,  or  still  more,  which  withdraws  him  from  it.  At  the  present 
time,"  continued  he  on  this  occasion,  "  I  have  such  a  case  before  me  ; 
it  concerns  a  rich  and  noble  couple  ;  and  hitherto  has  baffled  all  my 
skill.  The  affair  belongs  in  part  to  your  department,  worthy  pastor, 
and  your  friend  here  will  forbear  to  mention  it  again. 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XVI.  259 

"  In  the  absence  of  a  certain  nobleman,  some  persons  of  the  house, 
in  a  frolic  not  entirely  commendable,  disguised  a  young  man  in  the 
master's  clothes.  The  lady  was  to  be  imposed  upon  by  this  decep- 
tion ;  and  although  it  was  described  to  me  as  nothing  but  a  joke,  I 
am  much  afraid  the  purpose  of  it  was  to  lead  this  noble  and  most 
amiable  lady  from  the  path  of  honor.  Her  husband,  however,  un- 
expectedly returns  ;  he  enters  his  chamber,  thinks  he  sees  his  spirit, 
and  from  that  time  falls  into  a  melancholy  temper,  firmly  believing 
that  his  death  is  near. 

"  He  has  now  abandoned  himself  to  men  who  pamper  him  with 
religious  ideas,  and  I  see  not  how  he  is  to  l)e  prevented  from  going 
among  the  Herrnhuthers  with  his  lady,  and  as  he  has  no  children, 
from  depriving  his  relations  of  the  chief  part  of  his  fortune." 

"With  his  lady?"  cried  our  friend,  in  great  agitation;  for  this 
story  had  affrighted  him  extremely. 

"  And  alas  !  "  replied  the  doctor,  who  regarded  Wilhelm's  exclama- 
tion only  as  the  voice  of  common  sympathy  ;  "  this  lady  is  herself 
possessed  with  a  deeper  sorrow,  which  renders  a  removal  from  the 
workl  desirable  to  her  also.  The  same  young  man  was  taking  leave 
of  her  :  she  was  not  circumspect  enough  to  hide  a  nascent  inclina- 
tion towards  him  ;  the  youth  grew  bolder,  clasped  her  in  his  arms, 
and  pressed  a  large  portrait  of  her  husband,  which  was  set  with 
diamonds,  forcibly  against  her  breast.  She  felt  a  sharp  pain,  which 
gradually  went  off,  leaving  first  a  little  redness,  then  no  trace  at  all. 
As  a  man,  I  am  convinced  that  she  has  nothing  farther  to  reproach 
herself  with  in  this  affair  ;  as  a  physician,  I  am  certain  that  this 
pressure  could  not  have  the  smallest  ill  effect.  Yet  she  will  not  be 
persuaded  that  an  induration  is  not  taking  place  in  the  part  ;  and  if 
you  try  to  overcome  her  notion  by  the  evidence  of  feeling,  she  main- 
tains that  though  the  evil  is  away  at  this  moment,  it  will  return  the 
next.  She  conceives  that  the  disease  will  end  in  cancer,  and  thus 
her  youth  and  loveliness  be  altogether  lost  to  others  and  herself." 

"  Wretch  that  I  am  !  "  cried  Wilhelm,  striking  his  brow,  and  rush- 
ing from  the  company  into  the  fields.  He  had  never  felt  himself  in 
such  a  miserable  case. 

The  clergyman  and  the  physician  were  of  course  exceedingly  as- 
tonished at  the  singular  discovery.  In  the  evening,  all  their  skill 
was  called  for,  when  our  friend  returned,  and,  with  a  circumstantial 
disclosure  of  the  whole  occurrence,  uttered  the  most  violent  accusa- 
tions of  himself.  Both  took  interest  in  him  ;  both  felt  a  real  concern 
about  his  general  condition,  particularly  as  he  painted  it  in  the 
gloomy  colors  which  arose  from  the  humor  of  the  moment. 

Next  day  the  physician,  without  much  entreaty,  was  prevailed 
upon  to  accompany  him  in  his  return  ;  both  that  he  might  bear  him 
company,  and  that  he  might  if  possible,  do  something  for  Aurelia, 
whom  our  friend  had  left  in  rather  dangerous  circumstances. 

In  fact,  they  found  her  worse  than  they  expected.     She  was  af- 


260  ME18TER'S  APPRENTICESHIP, 

fiicted  with  a  sort  of  intermittent  fever,  which  could  the  less  be 
mastered,  as  she  purposely  maintained  and  aggravated  the  attacks  of 
it.  The  stranger  was  not  introduced  as  a  physician  :  he  behaved 
with  great  courteousness  and  prudence.  They  conversed  about  her 
situation,  bodily  and  mental :  her  new  friend  related  many  anecdotes 
of  persons  who,  in  spite  of  lingering  disorders,  had  attained  a  good 
old  age  :  adding,  that  in  such  cases,  nothing  could  be  more  injurious 
than  the  intentional  recalling  of  passionate  and  disagreeable  emo- 
tions. In  particular  he  stated,  that  for  persons  laboring  under 
chronic  and  partly  incurable  distempers,  he  had  always  found  it  a 
very  happy  circumstance  when  they  chanced  to  entertain,  and  cherish 
in  their  minds,  true  feelings  of  religion.  This  he  signified  in  the 
most  unobtrusive  manner  ;  as  it  were  historically  ;  promising  Aurelia 
at  the  same  time  the  reading  of  a  very  interesting  manuscript,  which 
he  said  he  had  received  from  the  hands  of  an  excellent  lady  of  his 
friends,  who  was  now  deceased.  "  To  me,"  he  said,  "  it  is  of  un- 
common value  ;  and  I  shall  trust  you  even  with  the  original.  Noth- 
ing but  the  title  is  in  my  handwriting  :  I  have  called  it,  '  Confessions 
of  a  Fair  Saint.'  " 

Touching  the  medical  and  dietetic  treatment  of  the  racked  and 
hapless  patient,  he  also  left  his  best  advice  with  Wilhelm.  He  then 
departed  ;  promising  to  write  ;  and,  if  possible,  to  come  again  in 
person. 

Meanwhile,  in  Wilhelm 's  absence,  there  had  changes  been  prepar- 
ing such  as  he  was  not  aware  of.  During  his  directorship,  our 
friend  had  managed  all  things  with  a  certain  liberality  and  freedom  ; 
looking  chiefly  at  the  main  result.  Whatever  was  required  for 
dresses,  decorations  and  the  like,  he  had  usually  provided  in  a 
plentiful  and  handsome  style  ;  and  for  securing  the  co-operation  of 
his  people,  he  had  flattered  their  self-interest,  since  he  could  not 
reach  them  by  nobler  motives.  In  this  he  felt  his  conduct  justified 
the  more,  as  Serlo  for  his  own  part  never  aimed  at  being  a  strict 
economist  ;  but  liked  to  hear  the  beauty  of  his  theater  commended  ; 
and  was  contented,  if  Aurelia,  who  conducted  the  domestic  matters, 
on  defraying  all  expenses,  signified  that  she  was  free  from  debt,  and 
could  besides  afford  the  necessary  sums  for  clearing  off  such  scores 
as  Serlo  in  the  interim,  by  lavish  kindness  to  his  mistresses  or  other- 
wise, might  have  incurred. 

Melina,  who  was  charged  with  managing  the  wardrobe,  had  all  the 
while  been  silently  considering  these  things,  with  the  cold  spiteful 
temper  peculiar  to  him.  On  occasion  of  our  friend's  departure,  and 
Aurelia's  increasing  sickness,  he  contrived  to  signify  to  Serlo,  that 
more  money  might  be  raised  and  less  expended  ;  and  consequently 
something  be  laid  up,  or  at  least  a  merrier  life  be  led.  Serlo  lieark- 
ened  gladly  to  such  allegations,  and  Melina  risked  the  exhibition  of 
his  plan. 

"  I  will  not  say,"  continued  he,  "that  any  of  your  actors  has  at 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XVI.  361 

present  too  mucli  salary  ;  they  are  meritorious  people,  they  would 
find  a  welcome  anywhere  ;  but  for  the  income  which  they  bring  us 
in,  they  have  too  much.  My  project  would  be,  to  set  up  an  opera  : 
and  as  to  what  concerns  the  playhouse,  1  may  be  allowed  to  say  it, 
you  are  the  person  for  maintaining  that  establishment  upon  your 
single  strength.  Observe  how  at  present  your  merits  are  neglected  ; 
and  justice  is  refused  you,  not  because  your  fellow-actors  are  excel- 
lent, but  merely  good. 

"  Come  out  alone,  as  used  to  be  the  case  ;  endeavor  to  attract 
around  you  middling,  I  will  even  say  inferior  people,  for  a  slender 
salary  ;  regale  the  public  with  mechanical  displays,  as  you  can  so 
cleverly  do  ;  apply  your  remaining  means  to  the  oj)era,  which  I  am 
talking  of  ;  and  you  will  quickly  see,  that  with  the  same  labor  and 
expense,  you  will  give  greater  satisfaction,  while  you  draw  incom- 
parably more  money  than  at  present." 

These  observations  were  so  flattering  to  Serlo,  that  they  could  not 
fail  of  making  some  impression  on  him.  He  readily  admitted,  that, 
loving  music  as  he  did,  he  had  long  wished  for  some  arrangement 
such  as  this  :  though  he  could  not  but  perceive  that  the  public  taste 
would  thus  be  still  more  widely  led  astray  ;  and  that  with  such  a 
mongrel  theater,  not  properly  an  opera,  not  properly  a  playhouse, 
any  residue  of  true  feeling  for  regular  and  perfect  works  of  art  must 
shortly  disappear. 

Melina  ridiculed,  in  terms  more  plain  than  delicate,  our  friend's 
pedantic  notions  in  this  matter,  and  his  vain  attempts  to  form  the 
public  mind,  instead  of  being  formed  by  it.  Serlo  and  he  at  last 
agreed,  with  full  conviction,  that  the  sole  concern  was  how  to  gather 
money,  and  grow  rich,  or  live  a  joyous  life  ;  and  they  scarcely  con- 
cealed their  wish  to  be  delivered  from  those  who  at  present  hindered 
them.  Melina  took  occasion  to  lament  Aurelia's  weak  health,  and  the 
speedy  end  which  it  threatened ;  thinking  all  the  while  directly  the 
reverse.  Serlo  affected  to  regret  that  Wilhelm  could  not  sing  ;  thus 
signifying  that  his  presence  was  by  no  means  indispensable.  Melina 
then  came  forward  with  a  whole  catalogue  of  savings,  which,  he  said, 
might  be  effected  ;  and  Serlo  saw  in  him  his  brother-in-law  replaced 
threefold.  Both  of  them  felt  well  that  secrecy  was  necessary  in  the 
matter  ;  but  this  mutual  obligation  only  joined  them  closer  in  their 
interests.  They  failed  not  to  converse  together  privately,  on  every- 
thing that  happened  ;  to  blame  whatever  Wilhelm  or  Aurelia  under- 
took ;  and  to  elaborate  their  own  project,  and  prepare  it  more  and 
more  for  execution. 

Silent  as  they  both  might  be  about  their  plan,  little  as  their  words 
betrayed  them,  in  their  conduct  they  were  not  so  politic  as  constantly 
to  hide  their  purposes.  Melina  now  opposed  our  friend  in  many 
points  that  lay  within  the  province  of  the  latter  ;  and  Serlo,  who  had 
never  acted  smoothly  to  his  sister,  seemed  to  grow  more  bitter,  the 
more  her  sickness  deepened,  the  more  her  passionate  and  variable 
humors  would  have  needed  toleration. 


263  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

About  this  period,  tliey  took  the  "  Emilie  Galotti "  of  Lessing. 
The  parts  were  very  happily  distributed  and  filled  ;  within  the 
narrow  circle  of  this  tragedy,  the  company  found  room  for  showing 
all  the  complex  riches  of  their  acting.  Serlo  in  the  character  of 
Marinelli  was  altogether  in  his  place  ;  Odoardo  was  very  well  exhib- 
ited ;  Madam  Meliua  played  the  Mother  with  considerable  skill  ; 
Elmira  gained  distinction  as  Emilie  ;  Laertes  made  a  stately  Appiani; 
and  Wilhelm  had  bestowed  the  study  of  some  months  upon  the 
Prince's  part.  On  this  occasion,  both  internally  and  with  Aurelia 
and  Serlo,  he  had  often  come  upon  this  question  :  What  is  the  dis- 
tinction between  a  noble  and  a  well-bred  manner  ;  and  how  far  must 
the  former  be  included  in  the  latter,  though  the  latter  is  not  in  the 
former? 

Serlo,  who  himself  in  Marinelli  had  to  act  the  courtier  accurately, 
without  caricature,  afforded  him  some  valuable  thoughts  on  this. 
"  A  well-bred  carriage,"  he  would  say,  "  is  difficult  to  imitate  ;  for  in 
strictness  it  is  negative  ;  and  it  implies  a  long-continued  previous 
training.  You  are  not  required  to  exhibit  in  your  manner  anything 
that  specially  betokens  dignity  ;  for,  by  this  means,  you  are  like  to 
run  into  formality  and  haughtiness  ;  you  ai"e  rather  to  avoid  whatever 
is  undignified  and  vulgar.  You  are  never  to  forget  yourself  ;  are  to 
keep  a  constant  watch  upon  yourself  and  others  ;  to  f orgi  ve  nothing 
that  is  faulty  in  your  own  conduct,  in  that  of  others  neither  to  forgive 
too  little  nor  too  much.  Nothing  must  appear  to  touch  you,  nothing 
to  agitate  :  you  must  never  overhaste  yourself,  must  ever  keep  your- 
self composed,  retaining  still  an  outward  calmness,  whatever  storms 
may  rage  within.  The  noble  character  at  certain  moments  may 
resign  himself  to  his  emotions  ;  the  well-bred  never.  The  latter  is 
like  a  man  dressed  out  in  fair  and  spotless  clothes  :  he  will  not  lean 
on  anything  ;  evei-y  person  will  beware  of  rubbing  on  him.  He  dis- 
tinguishes himself  from  others,  yet  he  may  not  stand  apart ;  for  as 
in  all  arts,  so  in  this,  the  hardest  must  at  length  be  done  with  ease  : 
the  well-bred  man  of  rank,  in  spite  of  every  separation,  always  seems 
united  with  the  people  round  him  ;  he  is  never  to  be  stiff,  or  uncom- 
plying ;  he  is  always  to  appear  the  first,  and  never  to  insist  on  so  ap- 
pearing. . 

"  It  is  clear,  then,  that  to  seem  well-bred,  a  man  must  actually  be 
so.  It  is  also  clear  why  women  generally  are  more  expert  at  taking 
up  the  air  of  breeding  than  the  other  sex  ;  why  courtiers  and  soldiers 
catch  it  more  easily  than  other  men." 

Wilhelm  now  despaired  of  doing  justice  to  his  part ;  but  Serlo  aided 
and  encouraged  him  ;  communicated  the  acutest  observations  on  de- 
tached points  ;  and  furnished  him  so  well,  that  on  the  exhibition  of 
the  piece,  the  public  reckoned  him  a  proper  prince. 

Serlo  had  engaged  to  give  him,  when  the  play  was  over,  such  re- 
marks as  might  occur  upon  his  acting  ;  a  disagreeable  contention  with 
Aurelia  prevented  any  conversation  of  that  kjnd.     Aurelia  had  acted 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XVI.  263 

tlie  character  of  Orsina,  in  such  a  style  as  few  have  ever  done.  She 
was  well  acquainted  with  the  part  ;  and  during  the  rehearsals  she 
had  treated  it  indifferently  ;  but  in  the  exhibition  of  the  piece,  she 
had  opened  as  it  were  all  the  sluices  of  her  personal  sorrow  ;  and  the 
character  was  represented,  so  as  never  jjoet  in  the  first  glow  of  inven- 
tion could  have  figured  it.  A  boundless  applause  rewarded  her 
painful  efforts  ;  but  her  friends,  on  visiting  her  when  the  play  was 
finished,  found  her  half  fainting  in  her  chair. 

Serlo  had  already  signified  his  anger  at  her  over-charged  acting,  as 
he  called  it  ;  at  this  disclosure  of  her  inmost  heart  before  the  public, 
to  many  individuals  of  which  the  history  of  her  fatal  passion  was 
more  or  less  completely  known.  He  had  spoken  bitterly  and  fiercely  ; 
grinding  with  his  teeth  and  stamping  with  his  feet,  as  was  his  cus- 
tom when  enraged.  "  Never  mind  her,"  cried  he,  when  he  saw  her 
in  the  chair,  surrounded  by  the  rest ;  "  she  will  go  upon  the  stage 
stark-naked  one  of  these  days  ;  and  then  the  approbation  will  be 
perfect." 

"  Ungrateful,  inhuman  man  !  "  exclaimed  she  ;  "  soon  shall  1  be 
carried  naked  to  the  place  where  approbation  or  disapprobation  can 
no  longer  reach  our  ears  ! "  With  these  words  she  started  up,  and 
hastened  to  the  door.  The  maid  had  not  yet  brought  her  mantle  ;  the 
sedan  was  not  in  waiting  ;  it  had  been  raining  lately  ;  a  cold,  raw 
wind  was  blowing  through  the  streets.  They  endeavored  to  persuade 
her  to  remain,  for  she  was  very  warm.  But  in  vain  :  she  purposely 
walked  slow  ;  she  praised  the  coolness,  seemed  to  inhale  it  with  pecu- 
liar eagerness.  No  sooner  was  she  home,  than  she  became  so  hoarse 
that  she  could  hardly  speak  a  word  :  she  did  not  mention  that  there 
was  a  total  stiffness  in  her  neck  and  along  her  back.  Shortly  after- 
wards, a  sort  of  palsy  in  the  tongue  came  on,  so  that  she  pronounced 
one  word  instead  of  another.  They  put  her  to  bed  ;  by  numerous  and 
copious  remedies,  the  evil  changed  its  form,  but  was  not  mastered. 
The  fever  gathered  strength  ;  her  case  was  dangerous. 

Next  morning  she  enjoyed  a  quiet  hour.  She  sent  for  Wilhelm, 
and  delivered  him  a  letter.  "  This  sheet,"  said  she,  "  has  long  been 
waiting  for  the  present  moment.  I  feel  that  my  end  is  drawing  nigh  : 
promise  me  that  you  yourself  will  take  this  paper  ;  that  by  a  word  or 
two,  you  will  avenge  my  sorrows  on  the  faithless  man.  He  is  not 
void  of  feeling  ;  my  death  will  pain  him  for  a  moment." 

Wilhelm  took  the  letter  ;  still  endeavoring  to  console  her,  and  to 
drive  away  the  thought  of  death. 

"  No,"  said  she,  "  do  not  deprive  me  of  my  nearest  hope.  I  have 
waited  for  him  long  ;  I  will  joyfully  clasp  him  when  he  comes." 

Shortly  after  this,  the  manuscript  arrived,  which  the  physician  had 
engaged  to  send  her.  She  called  for  Wilhelm  ;  made  him  read  it  to 
her.  The  effect,  which  it  produced  upon  her,  the  reader  will  be 
better  able  to  appreciate  after  looking  at  the  following  book.  The 
violent  and  stubborn  temper  of  our  poor  Aurelia  was  mollified  by 


264  MEI8TER' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

liearing  it.  Slie  took  back  tlie  letter,  and  wrote  another  as  it  seemed 
in  a  meeker  tone  ;  charging  Willielm  at  the  same  time  to  console  her 
friend,  if  he  should  be  distressed  about  her  death  ;  to  assure  him 
that  she  had  forgiven  him,  and  wished  him  every  kind  of  happiness. 

From  this  time,  she  was  very  quiet  ;  and  appeared  to  occupy  her- 
self with  but  a  few  ideas,  which  she  endeavored  to  extract  and  appro- 
priate from  the  manuscript,  out  of  which  she  frequently  made  Wil- 
lielm read  to  her.  The  decay  of  her  strength  was  not  perceptible  : 
nor  had  Wilhelm  been  anticipating  the  event,  when  one  morning  as 
he  went  to  visit  her,  he  found  that  she  was  dead. 

Entertaining  such  respect  for  her  as  he  had  done,  and  accustomed 
as  he  was  to  live  in  her  society,  the  loss  of  her  affected  him  with  no 
common  sorrow.  She  was  the  only  person  that  had  truly  wished 
him  well  ;  the  coldness  of  Serlo  he  had  felt  of  late  but  too  keenly. 
He  hastened  therefore  to  perform  the  service  she  had  instrusted  to 
him  ;  he  wished  to  be  absent  for  a  time. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  journey  was  exceedingly  convenient  for 
Melina  ;  in  the  course  of  his  extensive  correspondence,  he  had  lately 
entered  upon  terms  with  a  male  and  a  female  singer,  who,  it  was 
intended,  should,  by  their  performances  in  interludes,  prepare  the 
public  for  his  future  opera.  The  loss  of  Aurelia,  and  Wilhelm's 
absence,  were  to  be  supplied  in  this  manner  ;  and  our  friend  was 
satisfied  with  anything  tliat  could  facilitate  his  setting  out. 

He  had  formed,  within  himself,  a  singular  idea  of  the  importance 
of  his  errand.  The  death  of  his  unhappy  friend  had  moved  him 
deeply  ;  and  having  seen  her  pass  so  early  from  the  scene,  he  could 
not  but  be  hostilely  inclined  against  the  man,  who  had  abridged  her 
life,  and  made  that  shortened  term  so  full  of  woe. 

Notwithstanding  the  last  mild  words  of  the  dying  woman,  he  re- 
solved that,  on  delivering  his  letter,  he  would  pass  a  strict  sentence 
on  her  faithless  friend  ;  and  not  wishing  to  depend  upon  the  temper 
of  the  moment,  he  studied  an  address,  which  in  the  course  of  pre- 
paration became  more  pathetic  than  just.  Having  fully  convinced 
himself  of  the  good  composition  of  his  essay,  he  began  committing  it 
to  memory,  and  at  the  same  time  making  ready  for  departure,  Mignon 
was  present  as  he  packed  his  articles  ;  she  asked  him  whether  he 
intended  traveling  south  or  north  ;  and  learning  that  it  was  the  latter, 
she  replied  :  "  Then  I  will  wait  here  for  thee."  She  begged  of  him 
the  pearl  necklace  which  had  once  been  Mariana's.  He  could  not 
refuse  to  gratify  the  dear  little  creature,  and  he  gave  it  her  ;  the  neck- 
erchief she  had  already.  On  the  other  luind,  she  put  the  veil  of  Ham- 
let's Ghost  into  his  traveling-bag,  though  he  had  told  her  it  could  not 
be  of  any  service  to  him. 

Melina  took  upon  him  the  directorship  ;  his  wife  engaged  to  keep 
a  mother's  eye  upon  the  children,  whom  Wilhelm  parted  with 
unwillingly.  Felix  was  very  merry  at  the  setting  out,  and  when  asked 
what  pretty  thing  he  wislied  to  have  brought  back  for  him,  he  said  : 


BOOK  V.  CHAPTER  XVL  265 

*'  Hark  you  !  bring  me  a  papa  !  "  Mignon  seized  the  traveler's  hand  ; 
then,  standing  on  her  tiptoes,  she  pressed  a  warm  and  cordial,  though 
not  a  tender  kiss,  upon  his  lips,  and  cried  :  ' '  Master  !  forget  us  not, 
and  come  soon  back." 

And  so  we  leave  our  friend,  entering  on  his  journey,  amid  a  thou- 
sand different  thoughts  and  feelings  :  and  here  subjoin,  by  way  of 
close,  a  little  poem,  which  Mignon  had  recited  once  or  twice  with 
great  expressiveness,  and  which  the  hurry  of  so  many  singular  occur- 
rences prevented  us  from  inserting  sooner  : 

O,  ask  me  not  to  speak,  I  pray  thee  ! 

It  must  not  be  reveard  but  hid  ; 
How  gladly  would  my  tongue  obey  thee, 

Did  not  the  voice  of  Fate  forbid  ! 

At  his  appointed  time  revoh-ing. 

The  sun  these  shades  of  night  dispels ; 

The  rock,  its  rugged  breast  dissolving, 
Gives  up  to  earth  its  hidden  wells. 

In  friendship's  arms  each  heart  reposes  ; 

There  soul  to  soul  pours  out  its  woe  ; 
My  lips  an  oath  forever  closes, 

My  sorrows  God  alone  can  know. 


266  MEISTEE'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK    VI. 


CONFESSIONS  OF  A  FAIR  SAINT. 

Till  my  eighth  year,  I  was  always  a  healthy  child  ;  but  of  that 
period  I  can  recollect  no  more  than  of  the  day  when  I  was  born. 
About  the  beginning  of  my  eighth  j'ear  I  was  seized  with  a  hemor- 
rhage ;  and  from  that  moment  my  soul  became  all  feeling,  all  memory. 
The  smallest  circumstances  of  that  accident  are  yet  before  my  eyes, 
as  if  they  had  occurred  but  yesterday. 

During  the  nine  months,  which  I  then  spent  patiently  upon  a  sick 
bed,  it  appears  to  me,  the  ground- work  of  my  whole  turn  of  thought 
was  laid  ;  as  the  first  means  were  then  afforded  my  mind  of  develop- 
ing itself  in  its  own  manner. 

I  suffered  and  I  loved  :  this  was  the  peculiar  form  of  my  heart.  In 
the  most  violent  fits  of  coughing,  in  the  depressing  pains  of  fever,  I 
lay  quiet,  like  a  snail  drawn  back  within  its  house  :  the  moment  I 
obtained  a  respite,  I  wanted  to  enjoy  something  pleasant  ;  and  as 
every  other  pleasure  was  denied  me,  I  endeavored  to  amuse  myself 
with  the  innocent  delights  of  eye  and  ear.  The  people  brought  me 
dolls  and  picture-books  ;  and  whoever  would  sit  by  my  bed,  was 
obliged  to  tell  me  something. 

From  my  mother  I  rejoiced  to  hear  the  Bible  histories  :  and  my 
father  entertained  me  with  natural  curiosities.  He  had  a  very  pretty 
cabinet,  from  which  he  brought  me  first  one  drawer  and  then  another, 
as  occasion  served  ;  showing  me  the  articles,  and  pointing  out  their 
properties.  Dried  plants  and  insects,  with  many  kinds  of  anatomical 
preparations,  such  as  human  skin,  bones,  mummies  and  the  like,  were 
in  succession  laid  upon  the  sick-bed  of  the  little  one  ;  the  birds  and 
animals  he  killed  in  hunting  were  shown  to  me,  before  they  passed 
into  the  kitchen  ;  and  that  the  prince  of  the  world  might  also  have  a 
voice  in  this  assembly,  my  aunt  related  to  me  love  adventures  out  of 
fairy  tales.  All  was  accepted,  all  took  root.  There  were  hours  in 
which  I  vividly  conversed  with  the  Invisible  Power.  I  can  still 
repeat  some  verses,  which  I  then  dictated,  and  my  mother  wrote 
down. 

Often  I  would  tell  my  father  back  again  what  I  had  learned  from, 
him.  Rarely  did  I  take  any  physic  without  asking  where  the  simples 
it  was  made  of  grew,  what  look  they  had,  what  names  they  bore. 
Nor  had  the  stories  of  my  aunt  lighted  on  stony  ground.  I  figured 
myself  out  iu  pretty  clothes ;  and  met  the  most  delightful  princes, 


BOOK  VL  267 

who  could  find  no  peace  or  rest  till  they  discovered  who  the  unknown 
beauty  was.  One  adventure  of  this  kind,  with  a  charming  little 
angel,  dressed  in  white,  with  golden  wings,  who  warmly  courted  me, 
I  dwelt  upon  so  long  that  my  imagination  painted  out  his  form  almost 
to  visibility. 

After  a  year  I  was  pretty  well  restored  to  health  ;  but  nothing  of 
the  giddiness  of  childhood  remained  with  me.  I  could  not  play  with 
dolls  ;  I  longed  for  beings  able  to  return  my  love.  Dogs,  cats  and  birds, 
of  which  my  father  kept  a  great  variety,  afforded  me  delight  ;  but 
what  would  I  have  given  for  such  a  creature  as  my  aunt  told  me  of  ! 
It  was  a  lamb,  which  a  peasant  girl  took  up  and  nourished  in  a  wood  ; 
but  in  the  guise  of  this  pretty  beast  an  enchanted  prince  was  hid  ; 
who  at  length  appeared  in  his  native  shape,  a  lovely  youth,  and 
rewarded  his  benefactress  by  his  hand.  Such  a  lamb  I  would  have 
given  the  world  for. 

But  there  was  none  to  be  had  ;  and  as  everything  about  me  went  on 
in  such  a  quite  natural  manner,  I  by  degrees  all  but  abandoned  nearly 
all  hopes  of  such  a  treasure.  Meanwhile,  I  comforted  myself  by 
reading  books,  in  which  the  strangest  incidents  were  set  forth. 
Among  them  all,  my  favorite  was  the  "Christian  German  Hercules"  : 
that  devout  love  history  was  altogether  in  my  way.  Whenever  any- 
thing befell  his  dear  Valiska,  and  cruel  things  befell  her,  he  always 
prayed  before  hastening  to  her  aid,  and  the  prayers  stood  there  ver- 
batim. My  longing  after  the  invisible,  Avhich  1  had  always  dimly 
felt,  was  strengthened  by  such  means  :  for,  in  short,  it  was  ordained 
that  God  should  also  be  my  confidant. 

As  I  grew  older,  I  continued  reading.  Heaven  knows  what,  in 
chaotic  order.  The  "Roman  Octavia"  was  the  book  I  liked  beyond 
all  others.  The  persecutions  of  the  first  Christians,  decorated  with  the 
charms  of  a  romance,  awoke  the  deex>est  intei-est  in  me. 

But  my  mother  now  began  to  murmur  at  my  constant  reading  ; 
and  to  humor  her,  my  father  took  away  my  books  to-day,  but  gave 
them  back  to-morrow.  She  was  wise  enough  to  see  that  nothing 
could  be  done  in  this  way  ;  she  next  insisted  merely  that  my  Bible 
should  be  read  with  equal  diligence.  To  this  1  was  not  disinclined  : 
and  I  accordingly  perused  the  sacred  volume  with  a  lively  interest. 
Withal  my  mother  was  extremely  careful  that  no  books  of  a  cor- 
ruptive tendency  should  come  into  my  hands  :  immodest  writings  I 
would,  of  my  own  accord,  have  cast  away  ^  for  my  princes  and  my 
princesses  were  all  extremely  virtuous. 

To  my  mother  and  my  zeal  for  knowledge,  it  was  owing  that  with 
all  my  love  of  books  I  also  learned  to  cook  ;  for  much  was  to  be  seen 
in  cookery.  To  cut  up  a  hen,  a  pig,  was  quite  a  feast  for  me.  1 
used  to  bring  the  entrails  to  my  father,  and  he  talked  with  me  about 
them,  as  if  1  had  been  a  student  of  anatomy.  With  suppressed  joy, 
he  would  often  call  me  his  misfashioned  son. 

My  twelfth  year  was  now  behind  me.     1  learned  French,  dancing, 


268  MEISTER'8  APPBENTIGESHIP. 

and  drawing  ;  I  received  the  usual  instructions  in  religion.  In  the 
latter  many  thoughts  and  feelings  were  awakened,  but  nothing  prop- 
erly relating  to  my  own  condition.  I  liked  to  hear  the  people  speak 
of  God  ;  I  was  proud  that  I  could  speak  on  these  points  better  than 
my  equals.  I  zealously  read  many  books  which  put  me  in  a  condi- 
tion to  talk  about  religion  ;  but  it  never  once  struck  me  to  think  how 
matters  stood  with  me,  wliether  my  soul  was  formed  according  to 
these  holy  precepts,  whether  it  was  like  a  glass  from  which  the  ever- 
lasting sun  could  be  reflected  in  its  glancing.  From  the  first,  I  had 
presupposed  all  this. 

My  French  I  learned  with  eagerness.  My  teacher  was  a  clever 
man.  He  was  not  a  vain  empiric,  not  a  dry  grammarian  :  he  had 
learning,  he  had  seen  the  world.  Instructing  me  in  language,  he 
satisfied  my  zeal  for  knowledge  in  a  thousand  ways.  I  loved  him  so 
much  that  I  used  to  wait  his  coming  with  a  palpitating  heart.  Draw- 
ing was  not  hard  for  me  :  I  should  have  made  greater  progress  had 
my  teacher  possessed  head  and  science ;  he  had  only  hands  and  prac- 
tice. 

Dancing  was,  at  first,  one  of  my  smallest  amusements  ;  my  body 
was  too  sensitive  for  it  ;  I  learned  it  only  in  the  company  of  my 
sisters.  But  our  dancing-master  took  a  thought  of  gathering  all  his 
scholars,  male  and  female,  and  giving  them  a  ball.  This  event  gave 
dancing  quite  another  charm  for  me. 

Amid  a  throng  of  boys  and  girls  the  most  remarkable  were  two 
sons  of  the  marshal  of  the  court.  The  younger  was  of  my  age,  the 
other  two  years  older.  They  were  children  of  such  beauty  that,  ac- 
cording to  the  universal  voice,  no  one  had  seen  their  like.  For  my 
part,  scarcely  had  I  noticed  them  when  I  lost  sight  of  all  the  otlier 
crowd.  From  that  moment  I  began  to  dance  with  care,  and  to  wish 
that  I  could  dance  with  grace.  How  c_ame  it  on  the  other  hand  that 
these  two  boys  distinguished  me  from  all  the  rest?  No  matter;  be- 
fore an  hour  had  passed,  we  had  become  the  warmest  friends  ;  and 
our  little  entertainment  did  not  end  till  we  had  fixed  upon  the  time 
and  place  where  we  were  next  to  meet.  What  a  joy  for  me  !  And 
how  charmed  was  I  next  morning  when  both  of  them  inquired  for 
my  health,  each  in  a  gallant  note,  accompanied  with  a  nosegay  !  I 
have  never  since  felt  as  I  then  did  !  Compliment  was  met  by  com- 
pliment ;  letter  answered  letter.  The  church  and  the  public  walks 
were  grown  a  rendezvous  ;  our  young  acquaintances,  in  all  their 
little  parties,  now  invited  us  together  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  we 
were  slj'  enough  to  veil  the  business  from  our  parents,  so  that  they 
saw  no  more  of  it  than  we  thought  good. 

Thus  had  I  at  once  got  a  pair  of  lovers.  I  had  yet  decided  upon 
neither  ;  they  both  pleased  me,  and  we  did  extremely  well  together. 
All  at  once  the  elder  of  the  two  fell  very  sick.  I  myself  had  often 
been  sick  ;  and  thus  I  was  enabled,  by  rendering  him  many  little 
dainties  and  delicacies  suited  for  a  sick  person,  to  afford  some  solace 


BOOK  VI.  '     269 

to  the  sufferer.  His  parents  tbankfully  acknowledged  my  attention. 
In  compliance  with  the  prayer  of  their  beloved  son,  they  invited  me, 
with  all  my  sisters,  to  their  house,  so  soon  as  he  had  risen  from  his 
sick  bed.  The  tenderness  which  he  displayed  on  meeting  me  was 
not  the  feeling  of  a  child.  From  that  day  I  gave  the  preference  to 
him.  He  warned  me  to  keep  our  secret  from  his  brother  ;  but  the 
flame  could  no  longer  be  concealed  ;  and  the  jealousy  of  the  younger 
completed  our  romance.  He  played  us  a  thousand  tricks  ;  eager  to 
annihilate  our  joys,  he  but  increased  the  passion  he  was  seekiug  to 
destroy. 

At  last,  then,  I  had  actually  found  the  wished-for  lamb  :  and  this 
attachment  acted  on  me  like  my  sickness  ;  it  made  me  calm,  and  drew 
me  back  from  noisy  pleasures.  I  was  solitary,  I  was  moved  ;  and 
thoughts  of  (jod  again  occurred  to  me.  He  was  again  my  confidant, 
and  I  well  remember  with  what  tears  I  often  prayed  for  this  poor  boy, 
who  still  continued  sickly. 

The  more  childishness  there  was  in  this  adventure,  the  more  did  it 
contribute  to  the  forming  of  my  heart.  Our  French  teacher  had  now 
turned  us  from  translating,  into  daily  writing  him  some  letter  of  our 
own  invention.  I  brought  my  little  history  to  market,  shrouded  in 
the  names  of  Phyllis  and  Damon.  The  old  man  saw  through  it ;  and 
to  render  me  communicative,  praised  my  labor  very  much.  I  still 
waxed  bolder  ;  came  openly  out  with  the  affair,  adhering  even  in  the 
minute  details  to  truth.  I  do  not  now  remember  what  the  passage 
was  at  which  he  took  occasion  to  remark  ;  "  How  pretty,  how  natu- 
ral it  is  !  But  the  good  "Phyllis  had  better  have  a  care  ;  the  thing  may 
soon  grow  serious." 

It  vexed  me  that  he  did  not  look  upon  the  matter  as  already  serious  ; 
and  I  asked  him,  with  an  air  of  pique,  what  he  meant  by  serious.  I 
had  not  to  repeat  the  question  ;  he  explained  himself  so  clearly,  that 
I  could  scarcely  hide  my  terror.  Yet  an  anger  came  along  with  it,  as 
I  took  it  ill  that  he  should  entertain  such  thoughts,  I  kept  myself 
composed  ;  I  tried  to  justify  my  nymph  ;  and  said  with  glowing 
cheeks  :  "  But,  sir,  Phyllis  is  an  honorable  girl." 

He  was  rogue  enough  to  banter  me  about  my  honorable  heroine. 
While  we  were  speaking  French,  he  played  upon  the  word  lionnHe, 
and  hunted  the  honorableness  of  Phyllis  over  all  its  meanings.  I  felt 
the  ridicule  of  this,  and  was  extremely  puzzled.  He,  not  to  frighten 
me,  broke  off  ;  but  afterwards  often  led  the  conversation  to  such  top- 
ics. Plays  and  little  histories,  such  as  I  was  reading  and  translating 
with  him,  gave  him  frequent  opportunity  to  show  how  feeble  a  secur- 
ity against  the  calls  of  inclination  our  boasted  virtue  was.  I  no  longer 
contradicted  him  ;  but  I  was  in  secret  scandalized  ;  and  his  remarks 
became  a  burden  to  me. 

With  my  worthy  Damon,  too,  I  by  degrees  fell  out  of  all  connec- 
tion. The  chicanery  of  the  younger  boy  destroyed  our  intercourse. 
Soon  after,  both  these  blooming  creatures  died.  I  lamented  sore; 
however,  in  a  short  time  I  forgot. 


370  MEI8TER'8  APPEENTICE8H1F. 

But  Phyllis  rapidly  increased  in  stature  ;  was  altogether  healthy, 
and  began  to  see  the  world.  The  hereditary  prince  now  married  : 
and  a  short  time  after,  on  his  father's  death,  began  his  rule.  Court 
and  town  were  in  the  liveliest  motion  :  my  curiosity  had  copious 
nourishment.  There  were  plays  and  balls,  with  all  their  usual  accom- 
paniments ;  and  though  my  parents  kept  retired  as  much  as  possible, 
they  were  obliged  to  show  themselves  at  court,  where  I  was  of  course 
introduced.  Strangers  were  pouring  in  from  every  side  ;  high  com- 
pany was  in  every  house;  even  to  us  .some  cavaliers  were  recommended, 
others  introduced  ;  and  at  my  uncle's  men  of  every  nation  might  be 
met  with. 

My  honest  Mentor  still  continued,  in  a  modest  and  yet  striking  way, 
to  warn  me  ;  and  I  in  secret  to  take  it  ill  of  him.  With  regard  to  his 
assertion,  that  women  under  every  circumstance  were  weak,  I  did  not 
feel  at  all  convinced  :  and  here  perhaps  1  was  in  the  right,  and  my 
^Mentor  in  the  wrong  ;  but  he  spoke  so  earnestly,  that  once  I  grew 
afraid  he  might  be  right,  and  said  to  him,  with  much  vivacity  : 
"  Since  the  danger  is  so  great,  and  the  human  heart  so  weak,  I  will 
pray  to  God  tliat  he  may  keep  me." 

This  simple  answer  seemed  to  please  him,  for  he  praised  my  pur- 
pose ;  but  on  my  side,  it  was  anything  but  seriously  meant.  It  was, 
in  truth,  but  an  empty  word  ;  for  my  feelings  towards  the  Invisible 
were  almost  totally  extinguished.  The  hurry  and  the  crowd  I  lived 
in,  dissipated  my  attention,  and  carried  me  along  as  in  a  rapid  stream. 
These  were  the  emptiest  years  of  my  life.  All  day  long,  to  speak  of 
nothing,  to  have  no  solid  thought  ;  never  to  'do  anything  but  revel  : 
such  was  my  employment.  On  my  beloved  books  I  never  once  be- 
stowed a  thought.  The  people  I  lived  among  had  not  the  slightest 
tinge  of  literature  or  science  :  they  were  German  courtiers  ;  a. class  of 
men  at  that  time  altogether  destitute  of  culture. 

Such  society,  it  may  be  thought,  must  naturally  have  led  me  to 
the  brink  of  ruin.  I  lived  away  in  mere  corporeal  cheerfulness  ;  I 
never  took  myself  to  task,  I  never  prayed,  I  never  thought  about  my- 
self or  God.  Yet  I  look  upon  it  as  a  i)rovideutial  guidance,  that  none 
of  these  many  handsome,  rich  and  well-dressed  men  could  take  my 
fancy.  They  were  rakes,  and  did  not  conceal  it  ;  this  scared  me  back  : 
they  adorned  their  speech  with  double  meanings  ;  this  offended  me, 
made  me  act  with  coldness  towards  them.  Many  times  their  improprie- 
ties exceeded  belief  ;  and  I  did  not  restrain  myself  from  being  rude. 

Besides,  my  ancient  counselor  had  once  in  confidence  contrived  to 
tell  me,  that,  with  the  greater  part  of  these  lewd  fellows,  health  as 
well  as  virtue  was  in  danger.  I  now  shuddered  at  the  sight  of  them  ; 
I  was  afraid,  if  any  one  of  them  in  any  way  approached  too  near  me. 
I  would  not  touch  their  cups  or  glasses,  even  the  chair  they  had  been 
sitting  on.  Thus  morally  and  physically  I  remained  apart  from  them  ; 
all  the  compliments  they  paid  me  I  haughtily  accepted,  as  incense 
that  was  due. 


BOOK  VI.  271 

Among  the  strangers  then  resident  among  us,  was  one  young  man 
peculiarly  distinguished,  whom  we  used  in  sport  to  call  Narciss.  He 
had  gained  a  reputation  in  the  diplomatic  line  ;  and  among  the  various 
changes  now  occurring  at  court,  he  was  in  hopes  of  meeting  with  some 
advantageous  place.  He  soon  became  acquainted  with  my  father  ; 
his  acquirements  and  manners  opened  for  him  the  way  to  a  select 
society  of  most  accomplished  men.  My  father  often  spoke  in  praise 
of  him  :  his  figure,  which  was  very  handsome,  would  have  made  a 
still  better  impression,  had  it  not  been  for  something  of  self-compla- 
cency, which  breathed  from  the  whole  carriage  of  the  tnan.  I  had 
seen  him  ;  I  thought  well  of  him  ;  but  we  had  never  spoken. 

At  a  great  ball,  where  we  chanced  to  be  in  company,  I  danced  a 
minuet  with  him  ;  but  this  too  passed  without  results.  The  more 
violent  dances,  in  compliance  with  my  father,  who  felt  anxious  about 
my  health,  I  was  accustomed  to  avoid  :  in  the  present  case,  when 
these  came  on,  I  retired  to  an  adjoining  room,  and  began  to  talk  with 
certain  of  my  friends,  elderly  ladies,  Avho  had  set  themselves  to  cards. 

Narciss,  who  had  jigged  it  for  a  while,  at  last  came  into  the  room, 
where  I  was  ;  and  having  got  the  better  of  a  bleeding  at  the  nose, 
which  had  overtaken  him  in  dancing,  he  began  speaking  with  me 
about  a  multitude  of  things.  In  half  an  hour,  the  talk  had  grown  so 
interesting,  that  neither  of  us  could  think  of  dancing  any  more.  We 
were  rallied  by  our  friends  ;  but  we  did  not  let  their  bantering  dis- 
turb us.  Next  evening  we  recommenced  our  conversation,  and  were 
very  careful  not  to  hurt  our  health. 

The  acquaintance,  then,  was  made.  Narciss  was  often  with  my 
sisters  and  myself;  and  I  now  once  more  began  to  reckon  over  and 
consider  what  I  knew,  what  I  thought  of,  what  I  had  felt,  and  what  I 
could  express  myself  about  in  conversation.  My  new  friend  had 
mingled  in  the  best  society  ;  besides  the  department  of  history  and 
politics,  with  every  part  of  which  he  was  familiar,  he  had  gained 
extensive  literary  knowledge  ;  there  was  nothing  new  that  issued 
from  the  press,  especially  in  Fi-ance,  that  he  was  unacquainted  with. 
He  bought  or  sent  me  many  a  pleasant  book  ;  but  this  we  had  to  keep 
as  secret  as  forbidden  love.  Learned  women  had  been  made  ridicu- 
lous, nor  were  well-informed  women  tolerated, — apparently,  because  it 
would  have  been  uncivil  to  put  so  many  ill-informed  men  to  shame. 
Even  my  father,  much  as  he  delighted  in  this  new  opportunity  of 
cultivating  my  mind,  expressly  stipulated  that  our  literary  commerce 
should  remain  secret. 

Thus  our  intercourse  continued  for  almost  year  and  day  ;  and  still 
1  could  not  say  that,  in  any  wise,  Narciss  had  ever  shown  me  aught 
of  love  or  tenderness.  He  was  always  complaisant  and  kind  ;  but 
manifested  nothing  like  attachment  :  on  the  contrary,  he  seemed  to 
be  in  some  degree  affected  by  the  charms  of  my  youngest  sister,  who 
was  then  extremely  beautiful.  In  sport,  he  gave  her  many  little 
friendly  names,  out  of  foreign  tongues  ;  for  he  could  speak  two  or 


273  MEISTER' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

tliree  of  these  extremely  well,  and  loved  to  mix  tlieir  idiomatic 
phrases  with  his  German.  Such  compliments  she  did  not  answer 
very  liberally  ;  she  was  entangled  in  a  difEereut  noose  ;  and  being 
very  sharp,  while  he  was  very  sensitive,  the  two  were  often  quarrel- 
ing about  trifles.  vVitli  my  mother  and  my  aunt  he  kept  on  very 
pleasant  terms  :  and  thus  by  gradual  advances,  he  was  grown  to  be 
a  member  of  the  family. 

Who  knows  how  long  we  might  have  lived  in  this  way,  had  not  a 
curious  accident  altered  our  relations  all  at  once.  My  sisters  and  I 
were  invited  to  a  certain  house,  to  which  we  did  not  like  to  go.  The 
company  was  too  mixed  ;  and  persons  of  the  stupidest,  if  not  the 
rudest  staaup  were  often  to  be  met  there.  Narciss,  on  this  occasion, 
was  invited  also  ;  and  on  his  account  I  felt  inclined  to  go,  for  I  was 
sure  of  finding  one,  at  least,  whom  I  could  converse  with  as  I  desired. 
Even  at  table,  we  had  many  things  to  suffer  ;  for  several  of  the  gen- 
tlemen had  drunk  too  much  :  then,  in  the  drawing-room,  they  insisted 
on  a  game  at  forfeits.  It  went  on,  with  great  vivacity  and  tumult. 
Narciss  had  lost  a  forfeit  ;  they  ordered  him,  by  way  of  penalty,  to 
whisper  something  pleasant  in  the  ear  of  every  member  of  the  com- 
pany. It  seems,  he  staid  too  long  beside  my  next  neighbor,  the  lady 
of  a  captain.  The  latter  on  a  sudden  struck  him  such  a  box  with  his 
fist,  that  the  powder  flew  about  me,  into  my  eyes.  When  I  had  got 
my  eyes  cleared,  and  in  some  degree  recovered  from  my  terror,  I  saw 
that  both  gentlemen  had  drawn  their  swords.  Narciss  was  bleeding  ; 
and  the  other,  mad  with  wine  and  rage  and  jealousy,  could  scarcely 
be  held  back  by  all  the  company.  I  seized  Narciss,  led  him  by  the 
arm  upstairs  :  and  as  I  did  not  think  my  friend  safe  even  here  from 
his  frantic  enemy,  I  shut  the  door  and  bolted  it. 

Neither  of  us  considered  the  wound  serious  ;  for  a  slight  cut  across 
the  hand  was  all  we  saw.  Soon,  however,  1  discovered  that  there 
was  a  stream  of  blood  running  down  his  back,  that  there  was  a  deep 
wound  on  the  head.  I  now  began  to  be  afraid.  I  hastened  to  the 
lobby,  to  get  help  ;  but  I  could  see  no  person  ;  every  one  had  stayed 
below  to  calm  the  raving  captain.  At  last  a  daughter  of  the  family 
came  skipping  up  ;  her  mirth  annoyed  me  ;  she  was  like  to  die  with 
laughing  at  the  bedlam  spectacle.  I  conjured  her,  for  the  sake  of 
heaven  to  get  a  surgeon  ;  and  she,  in  her  wild  way,  sprang  downstairs 
to  fetch  me  one  herself. 

Returning  to  my  wounded  friend,  I  bound  my  handkerchief  about 
his  hand  ;  and  a  neckerchief,  that  was  hanging  on  the  door,  about 
his  head.  He  was  still  bleeding  copiously  :  he  now  grew  pale,  and 
seemed  as  if  he  were  about  to  faint.  There  was  none  at  hand  to  aid 
me  :  I  very  freely  put  my  arm  round  him  ;  patted  his  cheek,  and  tried 
to  cheer  him  by  little  flatteries.  It  seemed  to  act  on  him  like  a  spir-" 
itual  remedy  ;  lie  kept  his  senses,  but  sat  as  pale  as  death. 

At  last  the  active  housewife  arrived  :  it  is  easy  to  conceive  her  ter- 
ror wlieu  she  saw  my  friend  in  tliis  predicament,  lying  in  my  arms. 


BOOK  ri.  273 

and  both  of  us  best  reamed  witli  blood.  No  one  had  supposed  he 
was  wounded  ;  all  imagined  I  had  carried  him  away  in  safety. 

Now  smelling-bottles,  wine  and  everythnig  that  could  support  and 
stimulate  were  copiously  produced.  The  surgeon  also  came  ;  and  I 
might  easily  have  been  dispensed  with.  Narciss,  however,  held  me 
firmly  by  tlie  hand ;  I  would  have  stayed  without  holding.  During 
the  dressing  of  his  wounds,  I  continued  wetting  his  lips  with  wine  ; 
I  minded  nc^  though  all  the  company  were  now  about  us.  The  sur- 
geon having  finished,  his  patient  took  a  mute  but  tender  leave  of  me, 
and  was  conducted  home. 

The  mistress  of  the  house  now  led  me  to  her  bedroom  :  she  had 
to  strip  me  altogether;  and  I  must  confess,  while  they  washed  the 
blood  from  me,  I  saw  with  pleasure,  for  the  first  time,  in  a  mirror, 
that  I  might  be  reckoned  beautiful  without  help  of  dress.  No  por- 
tion of  my  clothes  could  be  put  on  again  ;  and  as  the  people  of  the 
house  were  all  either  less  or  larger  than  myself,  I  was  taken  home  in 
a  strange  disguise.  My  parents  were,  of  course  astonished.  They 
felt  exceedingly  indignant  at  my  fright,  at  the  wounds  of  their  friend, 
at  the  captain's  madness,  at  the  whole  occurrence.  A  very  little 
would  have  made  my  father  send  the  captain  a  challenge,  that  he 
might  avenge  his  friend  without  delay. '  He  blamed  the  gentlemen 
that  had  been  there,  because  they  had  not  punished  on  the  spot  such 
a  murderous  attempt ;  for  it  was  but  too  clear,  that  the  captain,  in- 
stantly on  striking,  had  drawn  his  sword,  and  wounded  the  other  from 
behind.  The  cut  across  the  hand  had  been  given,  just  when  Narciss 
himself  was  grasping  at  his  sword.  I  felt  unspealtably  affected, 
altered  ;  or,  how  shall  I  express  it  ?  The  passion  which  was  sleeping 
at  the  deepest  bottom  of  my  heart,  had  at  once  broken  loose,  like  a 
flame  getting  air.  And  if  joy  and  pleasure  were  well  suited  for  the 
first  producing  and  the  silent  nourishing  of  love,  yet  this  passion, 
bold  by  nature,  is  most  easily  impelled  by  terror  to  decide  and  to  de- 
clare itself.  My  mother  gave  her  little  flurried  daughter  some  medi- 
cine, and  made  her  go  to  bed.  With  the  earliest  morrow,  my  father 
hastened  to  Narciss,  whom  he  found  lying  very  sick  of  a  wound- 
fever. 

He  told  me  little  of  what  passed  between  them  ;  but  tried  to  quiet 
me  about  the  probable  results  of  this  event.  They  were  now  consid- 
ering whether  an  apology  should  be  accepted,  whether  the  affair 
should  go  before  a  court  of  justice,  and  many  other  points  of  that 
description.  I  knew  my  father  too  well  to  doubt  that  he  would  be 
averse  to  see  the  matter  end  without  a  duel  ;  but  I  held  my  peace  ; 
for  I  had  learned  .from  him  before,  that  women  should  not  meddle 
in  such  things.  For  the  rest,  it  did  not  strike  me  as  if  anything  had 
passed  between  the  friends,  in  which  my  interests  were  specially 
concerned  ;  but  my  father  soon  communicated  to  my  mother  the  pur- 
port of  their  farther  conversation.  Narciss,  he  said,  appeared  to  be 
exceedingly  affected  at  the  help  afforded  by  me  ;  had  embraced  him. 


274  MEISTER'S  APPRENTIUE8HIP. 

declared  liimself  my  debtor  forever ;  signified  that  he  desired  no 
happiness  except  what  he  could  share  with  me,  and  concluded  by  en- 
treating that  he  might  presume  to  ask  my  hand.  All  this  mamma 
repeated  to  me,  but  subjoined  the  safe  reflection,  that,  "  as  for  what 
was  said  in  the  first  agitation  of  mind  in  such  a  case,  there  was  little 
trust  to  be  placed  in  it."  "Of  course,  none,"  I  answered,  with 
affected  coldness  ;  though  all  the  while  I  was  feeling  Heaven  knows 
what.  • 

Narciss  continued  sick  for  two  months  ;  owing  to  the  wound  in 
his  right  hand,  he  could  not  even  write.  Yet,  in  the  meantime,  he 
showed  me  his  regard  by  the  most  obliging  courtesies.  All  these 
unusual  attentions  I  combined  with  what  my  mother  had  disclosed 
to  me  ;  and  constantly  my  head  was  full  of  fancies.  The  whole  city 
talked  of  the  occurrence.  With  me  they  spoke  of  it  in  a  peculiar 
tone  ;  they  drew  inferences  which,  greatly  as  I  struggled  to  avoid 
them,  touched  me  very  close.  What  had  formerly  been  habitude 
and  trifling,  was  now  grown  seriousness  and  inclination.  The  anx- 
iety in  which  I  lived  was  the  more  violent,  the  more  carefully  I 
studied  to  conceal  it  from  every  one.  The  idea  of  losing  him 
frightened  me  ;  the  possibility  of  any  closer  union  made  me  tremble. 
For  a  half-prudent  girl  tTiere  is  really  something  awful  in  the 
thought  of  marriage. 

By  such  incessant  agitations,  I  was  only  once  more  led  to  recollect 
myself.  The  gaudy  imagery  of  a  thoughtless  life,  which  used  to 
hover  day  and  night  before  my  eyes,  was  at  once  blown  away.  My 
soul  again  began  to  awaken  ;  but  the  greatly  interrupted  intimacy 
with  my  Invisible  Friend  was  not  so  easy  to  renew.  We  still  con- 
tinued at  a  frigid  distance  :  it  was  again  something  ;  but  little  to  the 
times  of  old. 

A  duel  had  been  fought,  and  the  captain  severely  wounded,  before 
I  ever  heard  of  it.  The  public  feeling  was,  in  all  senses,  strong  on 
the  side  of  my  lover,  who  at  length  again  appeared  upon  the  scene. 
But  first  of  all,  he  came,  with  his  head  tied  up  and  his  arm  in  a 
sling,  to  visit  us.  How  my  heart  beat  while  he  was  there  !  The 
whole  family  were  present  ;  general  thanks  and  compliments  were 
all  that  passed  on  either  side  ;  Narciss,  however,  found  an  oppor- 
tunity to  show  some  secret  tokens  of  his  love  to  me,  by  which  means 
my  inquietude  was  but  increased.  After  his  recovery,  he  visited  us 
throughout  the  winter  on  the  former  footing  ;  and  in  spite  of  all  the 
soft  private  marks  of  tenderness  which  he  contrived  to  give  me, 
the  whole  affair  remained  unsettled,  undiscussed. 

In  this  manner  was  I  kept  in  constant  practice.  I  could  trust  my 
thoughts  to  no  mortal  ;  and  from  (iod  I  was  too  far  removed.  Him 
I  had  quite  forgotten,  those  four  wild  years  :  I  now  again  began  to 
think  of  him  occasionally  ;  but  our  acquaintance  had  grown  cool  ; 
they  were  visits  of  mere  ceremony  these  ;  and  as,  moreover,  in  wait- 
ing on  him,  I  used  to  dress  in  fine  apparel,  to  set  before  him  self- 


BOOK  VI.  275 

complacently  my  virtue,  lienor  and  superiorities  to  otliers,  he  did 
not  seem  to  notice  me,  or  know  me  in  that  finery. 

A  courtier  would  have  been  exceedingly  distressed,  if  the  prince 
who  held  his  fortune  in  his  hands  had  treated  him  in  this  way  ;  but 
for  me,  I  did  not  sorrow  at  it.  I  had  what  I  required,  health  and 
conveniences  ;  if  God  should  please  to  think  of  me,  well  ;  if  not,  I 
reckoned  I  had  done  my  duty. 

This,  in  truth,  I  did  not  think  at  that  period  ;  yet  it  was  the  true 
figure  of  my  soul.  But,  to  change  and  purify  my  feelings,  prepara- 
tions were  already  made. 

The  spring  came  on  :  Narciss  once  visited  me,  unannounced,  and 
at  a  time  I  happened  to  be  quite  alone.  He  now  appeared  in  the 
character  of  lover  ;  and  asked  me  if  I  could  bestow  on  him  my 
heart,  and  as  soon  as  he  should  obtain  some  lucrative  and  honorable 
place,  my  hand  along  with  it. 

He  had  been  received  into  our  service  :  but  at  first  they  kept  him 
back,  and  would  not  rapidly  promote  him,  because  they  dreaded  his 
ambition.  Having  some  little  fortune  of  his  own,  he  Avas  left  with 
a  slender  salary. 

Notwithstanding  my  regard  for  him,  I  knew  that  he  was  not  a  man 
to  treat  with  altogether  frankly.  I  drew  iip,  therefore,  and  referred 
him  to  my  father  About  my  father  he  did  not  seem  to  doubt  ;  but 
wished  first  to  be  at  one  with  me,  now  and  here.  I  at  last  said.  Yes  ; 
but  stipulated  as  an  indispensable  condition  that  my  parents  should 
concur.  He  then  spoke  formally  with  both  of  them  ;  they  signified 
their  satisfaction  ;  mutual  promises  were  given,  on  the  faith  of  his 
advancement;  which  it  was  expected  would  be  speedy.  Sisters  and 
aunts  were  informed  of  this  arrangement,  and  the  strictest  secrecy 
enjoined  on  them. 

Thus  from  a  lover  I  had  got  a  bridegroom.  The  difference  between 
the  two  soon  showed  itself  to  be  considerable.  If  one  could  change 
the  lovers  of  all  honorable  maidens  into  bridegrooms,  it  would  be  a 
kindness  to  our  sex,  even  though  marriage  should  not  follow  the  con- 
nection. The  love  between  two  persons  does  not  lessen  by  the  change, 
but  it  becomes  more  reasonable.  Innumerable  little  follies,  all  coquet- 
ries and  caprices,  disappear.  If  •  the  bridegroom  tells  us,  that  we 
please  him  better  in  a  morning-cajp  than  in  the  finest  head-dress,  no 
discreet  young  woman  will  disturb  herself  about  her  hair-dressing  : 
and  nothing  is  more  natural  than  that  he,  too,  should  think  solidly, 
and  rather  wish  to  form  a  housewife  for  himself,  than  a  gaudy  doll 
for  otliers.     And  thus  it  is  in  every  province  of  the  business. 

Should  a  young  woman,  of  this  kind,  be  fortunate  enough  to  have  a 
bridegroom  who  possesses  understanding  and  acquirements,  she  learns 
from  him  more  than  universities  ^nd  foreign  lands  can  teach.  She 
not  only  willingly  receives  instruction  when  he  offers  it,  but  she 
endeavors  to  elicit  more  and  more  from  him.  Love  makes  much  that 
was  impossible  possible.     By  degrees,  too,  that  subjection,  so  neces- 


276  MEISTER  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

sary  and  so  graceful  for  the  female  sex,  begins  :  the  bridegroom  does 
not  govern  like  the  husband,  he  only  asks  ;  but  his  mistress  seeks  to 
discover  what  he  wants,  and  to  offer  it  before  he  asks  it. 

So  did  experience  teach  me  what  I  would  not  for  much  have  missed. 
I  was  happy,  truly  happy,  as  woman  could  be  in  the  world  ;  that  is 
to  say,  for  a  while. 

Amid  these  quiet  joys  a  summer  passed  away.  Narciss  gave  not 
the  slightest  reason  to  complain  of  him  ;  he  daily  became  more  dear 
to  me  ;  my  whole  soul  was  his  ;  this  he  well  knew,  and  knew  also 
how  to  prize  it.  Meanwhile,  from  seeming  trifles,  something  rose, 
which  by  and  by  grew  hurtful  to  our  union. 

Narciss  behaved  to  me  as  to  a  bride,  and  never  dared  to  ask  of  me 
such  favors  as  were  yet  forbidden  us.  But,  about  the  boundaries  of 
virtue  and  decorum,  we  were  of  very  different  opinions.  I  meant  to 
walk  securely  ;  and  so  never  granted  him  the  smallest  freedom  which 
the  whole  world  might  not  have  witnessed.  He,  used  to  dainties, 
thought  this  diet  very  strict.  On  this  point  there  was  continual  vari- 
ance ;  he  praised  my  modesty,  and  sought  to  undermine  my  resolu- 
tion. 

The  serious  of  my  old  French  teacher  now  occurred  to  me,  as  well 
as  the  defense  which  I  had  once  suggested  in  regard  to  it. 

With  God  I  had  again  become  a  little  more  acquainted.  He  had  given 
me  a  bridegroom  whom  I  loved  ;  and  for  this  I  felt  some  thankful- 
ness. Earthly  love  itself  concentrated  my  soul,  and  put  its  powers  in 
motion  ;  nor  did  it  contradict  my  intercourse  with  God.  I  naturally 
complained  to  him  of  what  alarmed  me  ;  but  I  did  not  perceive  that  I 
myself  was  wishing  and  desiring  it.  In  my  own  eyes  I  was  strong  ; 
I  did  not  pray,  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation  !"  My  thoughts  were 
far  beyond  temptation.  In  this  flimsy  tinsel  work  of  virtue  I  came  to 
God  ;  he  did  not  drive  me  back.  On  the  smallest  movement  towards 
him,  he  left  a  soft  impression  on  my  soul  ;  and  this  impression  caused 
me  always  to  return. 

Except  Narciss,  the  world  was  altogether  dead  to  me  ;  excepting 
him,  there  was  nothing  in  it  that  had  any  charm.  Even  my  love  for 
dress  was  but  the  wish  to  please  him  ;  if  I  knew  that  he  was  not  to 
see  me,  I  could  spend  no  care  upon  it.  I  liked  to  dance  ;  but  if  he 
was  not  beside  me,  it  seemed  as  if  I  could  not  bear  the  motion.  At  a 
brilliant  festival,  if  he  was  not  invited,  I  could  neither  take  the  trou- 
ble of  ])roviding  new  things,  nor  of  putting  on  the  old,  according  to 
the  mode.  To  me  they  were  alike  agreeable,  or  rather,  I  might  say, 
alike  burdensome.  I  used  to  reckon  such  an  evening  very  fairly 
spent,  when  I  could  join  myself  to  any  ancient  card  party,  though 
formerly  1  had  not  the  smallest  taste  for  such  things  ;  and  if  some  old 
acquaintance  came  and  rallied  me.al)out  it,  I  would  smile,  perhaps  for 
the  first  time  all  that  night.  So,  likewise,  it  was  with  promenades, 
and  every  social  entertainment  that  can  be  imagined. 


BOOK  VI.  .     m 

Him  had  I  chosen  from  all  others, 
His  would  I  be,  and  not  another's  ; 
To  me  his  love  was  all  in  all . 

Thus  was  I  often  solitary  in  the  midst  of  company  ;  and  real  solitude 
was  generally  acceptable  to  me.  But  my  busy  soul  could  neither 
sleep  nor  dream  ;  I  felt  and  thought  ;  and  acquired,  by  degrees,  some 
faculty  to  speak  about  my  feelings  and  my  thoughts  with  (iod.  Then 
were  feelings  of  another  sort  unfolded  ;  but  these  did  not  contradict 
the  former  feelings  :  my  affection  to  Narciss  accorded  with  the  uni- 
versal scheme  of  nature  :  it  nowhere  hindered  the  performance  of  a 
duty.  They  did  not  contradict  each  other,  yet  they  were  immensely 
different.  Narciss  was  the  only  living  form  which  hovered  in  my 
mind,  and  to  which  my  love  was  all  directed  ;  but  the  other  feeling 
was  not  directed  towards  any  form,  and  yet  it  was  unspeakably  agree- 
able.    I  no  longer  have  it,  I  no  longer  can  impart  it. 

My  lover,  whom  I  used  to  trust  with  all  my  secrets,  did  not  know 
of  this.  I  soon  discovered  that  he  thought  far  otherwise  :  he  often 
gave  me  writings  which  opposed,  with  light  and  heavy  weapons,  all 
that  can  be  called  connection  with  the  Invisible.  I  used  to  read  the 
books,  because  they  came  from  him  ;  but  at  the  end,  I  knew  no  word 
of -all  that  had  been  argued  in  them. 

Nor,  in  regard  to  sciences  and  knowledge,  was  there  want  of  con- 
tradiction in  our  conduct.  He  did  as  all  men  do,  he  mocked  at  learned 
women  ;  and  yet  he  kept  continually  instructing  me.  He  used  to 
speak  with  me  on  all  subjects,  law  excepted  ;  and  while  constantly 
procuring  books  of  every  kind  for  me,  he  frequently  repeated  the 
uncei-tain  precept,  "  That  a  lady  ought  to  keep  the  knowledge  she 
might  have  more  secret  than  the  Calvinist  his  creed  in  Catholic  coun- 
tries." And  while  I,  by  natural  consequence,  endeavored  not  to  show 
myself  more  wise  or  learned  than  formerly  befoi'e  the  world,  Narciss 
himself  was  commonly  the  first  who  yielded  to  the  vanity  of  speaking 
about  me  and  my  superiorities. 

A  nobleman  of  high  repute,  and  at  that  time  valued  for  his  influ- 
ence, his  talents  and  accomplishments,  was  living  at  our  court  with 
great  applause.  He  bestowed  especial  notice  on  Narciss,  whom  he 
kept  continually  about  him.  They  once  had  an  argument  about  the 
virtue  of  women.  Narciss  repeated  to  me  what  had  passed  between 
them  ;  I  was  not  wanting  with  my  observations  ;  and  my  friend 
required  of  me  a  written  essay  on  the  subject.  I  could  write  French 
fluently  enough  ;  I  had  laid  a  good  foundation  with  my  teacher.  My 
correspondence  with  Narciss  was  likewise  carried  on  in  French  : 
except  in  French  books,  there  was  then  no  elegant  instruction  to  be 
had.  My  essay  pleased  the  count  ;  I  was  obliged  to  let  him  have 
some  little  songs,  which  I  had  lately  been  composing.  In  short, 
Narciss  appeared  to  revel  without  stint  in  the  renown  of  his  beloved  : 
and  the  story,  to  his  great  contentment,  ended  with  a  French  epistle 
in  heroic  verse,  which  the  count  transmitted  to  him  on  departing  ;  in 


278  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

wliicli  tlxeir  argument  was  mentioned,  and  my  friend  reminded  of  his 
happiness  in  being  destined,  after  all  bis  doubts  and  errors,  to  learn 
most  certainly  what  virtue  was,  in  the  arms  of  a  virtuous  and  charm- 
ing wife. 

lie  showed  this  poem  first  of  all  to  me,  and  then  to  almost  every 
one  ;  each  thinking  of  the  matter  what  he  pleased.  Thus  did  he  act 
in  several  cases  ;  every  stranger,  whom  he  valued,  must  be  made 
acquainted  in  our  house. 

A  noble  family  was  staying  for  a  season  in  the  place,  to  profit  by 
the  skill  of  our  physician.  In  this  house  too  Narciss  was  looked  on 
as  a  son  :  he  introduced  me  there  ;  we  found  among  these  worthy 
persons  the  most  pleasant  entertainment  for  mind  and  heart.  Even 
the  common  pastimes  of  society  appeared  less  empty  here  than  else- 
where. All  knew  how  matters  stood  with  us  :  they  treated  us  as 
circumstances  would  allow,  and  left  the  main  relation  unalluded  to. 
I  mention  this  one  family,  because  in  the  after-period  of  my  life  it 
had  a  powerful  influence  on  me. 

Almost  a  year  of  our  connection  had  elapsed  ;  and  along  with  it, 
our  spring  was  over.  The  summer  came,  and  all  grew  drier  and 
more  earnest. 

By  several  unexpected  deaths,  some  ofiices  fell  vacant  which  Nar- 
ciss might  make  pretensions  to.  The  instant  was  at  hand,  when  my 
whole  destiny  must  be  decided  ;  and  while  Narciss,  and  all  our  friends, 
were  making  every  effort  to  efface  some  impressions  which  obstructed 
him  at  court,  and  to  obtain  for  him  the  wished-for  situation,  I  turned 
with  my  request  to  my  Invisible  Friend.  I  was  received  so  kindly, 
that  I  gladly  came  again.  I  confessed,  without  disguise,  my  wish 
that  Narciss  might  obtain  the  place  ;  but  my  prayer  was  not  importu- 
nate ;  and  I  did  not  require  that  it  should  happen  for  the  sake  of  my 
petition. 

The  place  was  obtained  by  a  far  inferior  competitor.  I  was  dread- 
fully troubled  at  this  news  ;  I  hastened  to  my  room,  the  door  of  which 
I  locked  behind  me.  The  first  fit  of  grief  went  off  in  a  shower  of 
tears  ;  the  next  thought  was,  ' '  Yet  it  was  not  by  chance  that  it  hap- 
pened ; "  and  instantly  I  formed  the  resolution  to  be  well  content 
with  it,  seeing  even  this  apparent  evil  would  be  for  my  true  advan- 
tage. The  softest  emotions  then  pressed  in  upon  me,  and  divided  all 
the  clouds  of  sorrow.  I  felt  that,  with  help  like  this,  there  was 
nothing  one  might  not  endure.  At  dinner  I  appeared  quite  cheerful, 
to  the  great  astonishment  of  all  the  house. 

Narciss  had  less  internal  force  than  I,  and  I  was  called  upon  to 
comfort  him.  In  his  family,  too,  he  had  many  crosses  to  encounter, 
some  of  which  afflicted  him  considerably  ;  and,  such  true  confidence 
subsisting  between  us,  he  intrusted  me  with  all.  His  negotiations 
for  entering  on  foreign  service  were  not  more  fortunate  ;  all  this  I 
felt  deeply  on  his  account  and  mine  ;  all  this  too  I  ultimately  carried 
to  the  place  where  my  petitions  had  already  been  so  well  received. 


BOOK  VI.  279 

The  softer  these  experiences  were,  the  oftener  did  I  endeavor  to 
renew  them  ;  I  hoped  continually  to  meet  with  comfort  where  I  had 
so  often  met  with  it.  Yet  I  did  not  always  meet  with  it :  I  was  as 
one  that  goes  to  warm  him  in  the  sunshine,  while  there  is  something 
standing  in  the  way  that  makes  a  shadow.  "  What  is  this?"  I  asked 
myself.  I  traced  the  matter  zealously,  and  soon  perceived  that  it  all 
depended  on  the  situation  of  my  soul  :  if  this  was  not  turned  in  the 
straightest  direction  towards  God.  I  still  continued  cold  ;  I  did  not 
feel  his  counter-influence  ;  I  could  obtain  no  answer.  The  second 
question  was  :  "  What  hinders  this  direction  ?  "  Here  I  was  in  a  wide 
field  ;  I  perplexed  myself  in  an  inquiry,  which  lasted  nearly  all  the 
second  year  of  my  attachment  to  Narciss.  I  might  have  ended  the 
investigation  sooner  ;  for  it  was  not  long  till  I  had  got  upon  the 
proper  trace  ;  but  I  would  not  confess  it,  and  I  sought  a  thousand 
outlets. 

I  very  soon  discovered  that  the  straight  direction  of  my  soul  was 
marred  by  foolish  dissipations,  and  employment  with  unworthy  things. 
The  how  and  where  was  clear  enough  to  me.  Yet  by  what  means 
could  1  help  myself,  or  extricate  my  mind  from  the  calls  of  a  world 
where  everything  was  either  cold  indifference  or  hot  insanity  ?  Gladly 
would  I  have  left  things  standing  as  they  were,  and  lived  from  day 
to  day,  floating  down  with  the  stream,  like  other  people  whom  I  saw 
quite  happy  ;  but  I  durst  not  ;  my  inmost  feelings  contradicted  me 
too  often.  Yet  if  I  determined  to  renounce  society,  and  alter  my  rela- 
tions to  others,  it  was  not  in  my  power.  I  was  hemmed  in  as  by  a 
ring  drawn  round  me  ;  certain  connections  I  could  not  dissolve  ;  and, 
in  the  matter  which  lay  nearest  to  my  heart,  fatalities  accumulated 
and  oppressed  me  more  and  more.  I  often  went  to  bed  with  tears  ; 
and,  after  a  sleepless  night,  arose  again  with  tears  :  I  required  some 
strong  support  ;  and  God  would  not  vouchsafe  it  me,  while  I  was 
running  with  the  cap  and  bells. 

I  proceeded  now  to  estimate  my  doings,  all  and  each  ;  dancing  and 
play  were  first  put  upon  their  trial.  Never  was  there  anything  spoken, 
thought  or  written  for  or  against  these  practices,  which  I  did  not  ex- 
amine, talk  of,  read,  weigh,  reject,  aggravate  and  plague  myself 
about  If  I  gave  up  these  habits,  I  was  certain  that  Narciss  would  be 
offended  ;  for  he  dreaded  exceedingly  the  ridicule  which  any  look  of 
strait-laced  conscientiousness  gave  one  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  And 
doing  what  I  now  looked  upon  as  folly,  noxious  folly,  out  of  no  taste 
of  my  own,  but  merely  to  gratify  him,  it  all  grew  woefully  irksome 
to  me. 

Without  disagreeable  prolixities  and  repetitions,  it  is  not  in  my 
power  to  represent  what  pains  I  took,  in  trying  so  to  counteract  those 
occupations  which  distracted  my  attention  and  disturbed  my  peace  of 
mind,  that  my  heart,  in  spite  of  them,  might  still  be  open  to  the  in- 
fluences of  the  Invisible  I3eing.  But  at  last,  with  pain,  I  was  com- 
pelled to  admit,  that  in  this  way  the  quarrel  could  not  be  composed, ' 


280  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

For  no  sooner  liad  I  clothed  myself  in  tlie  garment  of  folly,  tlian  it 
canie  to  be  something  more  than  a  mask ,  than  the  foolishness  pierced 
and  penetrated  me  through  and  through. 

May  I  here  overstep  the  province  of  a  mere  historical  detail,  and 
offer  one  or  two  remarks  ou  what  was  then  taking  place  within  me? 
What  could  it  be  that  so  changed  my  tastes  and  feelings,  that,  in  my 
twenty-second  year,  nay,  earlier,  I  lost  all  relish  for  the  recreations 
with  which  people  of  that  age  are  harmlessly  delighted  ?  Why  were 
they  not  harmless  for  me?  I  may  answer,  just  because  they  were 
not  harmless  ;  because  I  was  not,  like  others  of  my  years,  unac- 
quainted with  my  soul.  No  !  I  knew  from  experiences  which  had 
reached  me  unsought,  that  there  are  loftier  emotions,  which  afford  us 
a  contentment  which  it  is  vain  to  seek  in  the  aniusements  of  the 
world  ;  and  that,  in  these  higher  joys,  there  is  also  kept  a  secret 
treasure  for  strengthening  the  spirit  in  misfortuue. 

But  the  pleasures  of  society,  the  dissipations  of  youth,  must  needs 
have  had  a  powerful  charm  for  me,  since  it  was  not  in  my  power  to 
engage  in  them  without  participation,  to  act  among  them  as  if  they 
were  not  there.  How  many  things  could  I  now  do,  if  I  liked,  with 
entire  coldness,  which  then  dazzled  and  confounded  me,  nay,  threat- 
ened to  obtain  the  mastery  over  me  !  Here  tliere  could  no  medium 
be  observed  ;  either  those  delicious  amusements,  or  my  nourishing 
and  quickening  internal  emotions,  must  be  given  up. 

But  in  my  soul  the  strife  had,  without  my  own  consciousness, 
already  been  decided.  Even  if  there  still  was  anything  within  me 
that  longed  for  earthly  pleasures,  I  had  now  become  unfitted  for 
enjoying  them.  Much  as  a  man  might  hanker  after  wine,  all  desire 
of  drinking  would  forsake  him,  if  he  should  be  placed  among  full 
barrels  in  a  cellar,  where  the  foul  air  was  like  to  suffocate  him.  Free 
air  is  more  than  wine  :  this  1  felt  but  too  keenly  ;  and  from  the  first, 
it  would  have  cost  me  little  studying  to  prefer  the  good  to  the  delight- 
ful, if  the  fear  of  losing  the  affection  of  Narciss  had  not  restrained 
me.  But  at  last,  when  after  many  thousand  struggles,  and  thoughts 
continually  renewed,  I  began  to  cast  a  steady  eye  upon  the  bond 
which  held  me  to  him,  I  discovered  that  it  was  but  weali,  that  it 
might  be  torn  asunder.  I  at  once  perceived  it  to  be  only  as  a  glass 
bell,  which  shut  me  up  in  the  exhausted,  airless  space.  One  bold 
stroke  to  break  the  bell  in  pieces,  and  thou  art  delivered  ! 

No  sooner  thought  than  tried.  I  drew  off  the  mask,  and  on  all 
occasions  acted  as  my  heart  directed.  Narciss  I  still  cordially  loved  ; 
but  the  thermomet(^r,  which  formerly  had  stood  in  hot  water,  was 
now  hanging  in  the  natural  air  ;  it  could  rise  no  higher  than  the 
warmth  of  the  atmosphere  directed. 

Unhappily,  it  cooled  very  much.     Narciss  drew  back,  and  began  to 

assume  a  distant  air  :  this  was  at  his  option,  but  my  tliermometer 

descended  as  he  drew  back.     Our  family  observed  this,  questioned 

'  me,  and  seemed   to  be  surprised,     I  explained  to  them  with  stout 


BOOK  VI.  281 

defiance,  that  lieretofore  I  had  made  abundant  sacrifices  ;  that  I  was 
ready,  still  farther  and  to  the  end  of  my  life,  to  share  all  crosses  that 
befell  him  ;  but  that  I  required  full  freedom  in  my  conduct,  that  my 
doings  and  avoidings  must  depend  upon  my  own  conviction  ;  that, 
indeed,  I  would  never  bigotedly  cleave  to  my  own  opinion,  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  would  willingly  be  reasoned  with  ;  yet,  as  it  con- 
cerned my  own-  happiness,  the  decision  must  proceed  from  myself, 
and  be  liable  to  no  manner  of  constraint.  The  greatest  physician 
could  not  move  me  by  his  reasonings,  to  take  an  article  of  food, 
which  perhaps  was  altogether  wholesome  and  agreeable  to  many,  so 
soon  as  my  experience  had  shown  that  on  all  occasions  it  was  noxious 
to  me  ;  as  I  might  produce  coffee  for  an  instance  ;  and  just  as  little, 
nay,  still  less,  would  I  have  any  sort  of  conduct  which  misled  me, 
preached  up  and  demonstrated  upon  me  as  morally  profitable. 

Having  so  long  prepared  myself  in  silence,  these  debates  were 
rather  pleasant  tlian  vexatious  to  me.  I  gave  vent  to  my  soul  ;  I  felt 
the  whole  worth  of  my  determination.  I  yielded  not  a  hair's-breadth  ; 
and  those  to  whom  I  owed  no  filial  respect  were  sharply  handled  and 
dispatched.  In  the  family  I  soon  prevailed.  iNIy  mother  from  her 
youth  had  entertained  these  sentiments,  though  in  her  they  had 
never  reached  maturity  :  for  no  necessity  had  pressed  upon  her,  and 
exalted  her  courage  to  achieve  her  purpose.  She  rejoiced  in  behold- 
ing her  silent  wishes  fulfilled  through  me.  My  younger  sisters 
seemed  to  join  themselves  with  me  ;  the  second  was  attentive  and 
quiet.  Our  aunt  had  the  most  to  object.  The  arguments  which  she 
employed  appeared  to  her  irrefragable  ;  and  they  were  irrefragable, 
being  altogether  commonplace.  At  last  I  was  obliged  to  show  her 
that  she  had  no  voice  in  the  affair  in  any  sense  ;  and  after  this,  she 
seldom  signified  that  she  persisted  in  her  views.  She  was  indeed  the 
only  person  that  observed  this  transaction  close  at  hand,  without  in 
some  degree  experiencing  its  infiuence.  I  do  not  calumniate  her  when 
I  say  that  she  had  no  character,  and  the  most  limited  ideas. 

My  father  had  acted  altogether  in  his  own  way.  He  spoke  not 
much,  but  often,  with  me  on  the  matter  :  his  arguments  were  rational, 
and  being  his  arguments,  they  could  not  be  impugned.  It  was  only 
the  deep  feeling  of  my  right  that  gave  me  strength  to  dispute  against 
him.  But  the  scenes  soon  changed  ;  I  was  forced  to  make  appeal  to 
his  heart.  Straitened  by  his  understanding,  I  came  out  with  the 
most  pathetic  pleadings.  I  gave  free  course  to  my  tongue  and  to  my 
tears.  I  showed  him  how  much  I  loved  Narciss  ;  how  much  con- 
straint I  had  for  two  years  been  enduring  ;  how  certain  I  was  of 
being  in  the  right  :  that  I  was  ready  to  testify  that  certainty,  by  the 
loss  of  my  beloved  bridegroom  and  prospective  happiness  ;  nay,  if  it 
were  necessary,  by  the  loss  of  all  that  I  possessed  on  earth  ;  that  I 
would  rather  leave  my  native  country,  my  parents  and  my  friends, 
and  beg  my  bread  in  foreign  lands,  than  act  against  these  dic- 
tates of  my  conscience.     He  concealed  his  emotion  ;  he  said  nothing 


282       .  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

on  the  subject  for  a  while,  and  at  last  he  openly  declared  in  my 
favor. 

During  all  this  time  Narciss  forbore  to  visit  us  ;  and  my  father 
now  gave  up  the  weekly  club,  where  he  was  used  to  meet  him.  The 
business  made  a  noise  at  court,  and  in  the  town.  People  talked 
about  it,  as  is  common  in  such  cases,  which  the  i)ublic  takes  a  vehe- 
ment interest  in,  because  its  sentence  has  usurped  an  influence  on 
the  resolutions  of  weak  minds.  I  knew  enough  about  the  world  to 
understand  that  one's  conduct  is  often  censured  by  the  very  persons 
who  would  have  advised  it,  had  one  consulted  them  :  and  inde- 
pendently of  this,  with  my  internal  composure,  I  should  have  looked 
on  all  such  transitory  speculations  just  as  if  they  had  not  been. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  hindered  not  myself  from  yielding  to  my  in- 
clination for  Narciss.  To  me  he  had  become  invisible,  and  to  him 
my  feelings  had  not  altered.  I  loved  him  tenderly  ;  as  it  were  anew, 
and  much  more  steadfastly  than  before.  If  he  chose  to  leave  my 
conscience  undisturbed,  then  I  was  his  :  wanting  this  condition,  I 
would  have  refused  a  kingdom  with  him.  For  several  months,  I 
bore  these  feelings  and  these  thoughts  about  with  me  ;  and  finding, 
at  last,  that  I  was  calm  and  strong  enough  to  go  peacefully  and 
firmly  to  work,  I  wrote  him  a  polite  but  not  a  tender  note,  inquiring 
why  he  never  came  to  see  me. 

As  I  knew  his  manner  of  avoiding  to  explain  himself,  in  little 
matters,  but  of  silently  doing  what  seemed  good  to  him,  I  purposely 
urged  him  in  the  present  instance.  I  got  a  long  and,  as  it  seemed 
to  me,  pitiful  reply,  in  vague  style  and  unmeaning  phrases,  stating 
that  without  a  better  place,  he  could  not  fix  himself,  and  offer  me 
his  hand  ;  that  I  best  knew  how  hard  it  had  fared  with  him  hither- 
to ;  that  as  he  was  afraid  lest  a  fruitless  intercourse,  so  long  con- 
tinued, might  prove  hurtful  to  my  reputation,  I  would  give  him 
leave  to  continue  at  his  present  distance  ;  so  soon  as  it  was  in  his 
power  to  make  me  happy,  he  would  look  upon  the  word  which  he 
had  given  me  as  sacred. 

I  answered  him  on  the  spot,  that  as  our  intercourse  was  known  to 
all  the  world,  it  might  perliaps  be  rather  late  to  spare  my  reputa- 
tion ;  for  which,  at  any  rate,  my  conscience  and  my  innocence  were 
the  surest  pledges  ;  however,  that  I  hereby  freely  gave  liim  back  his 
word,  and  hoped  the  change  would  prove  a  happy  one  for  him.  The 
same  hour  I  received  a  short  reply,  which  was,  in  all  essential  par- 
ticulars, entirely  synonymous  with  the  first.  He  adhered  to  his 
former  statement,  that  so  soon  as  he  obtained  a  situatibn,  he  would 
ask  me,  if  I  pleased  to  share  his  fortune  with  him. 

This  I  interpreted  as  meaning  simply  nothing.  I  signified  to  my 
relations  and  acquaintances,  that  the  affair  was  altogether  settled ; 
and  it  was  so  in  fact.  Having,  nine  months  afterwards,  obtained 
the  much-desired  perferment,  he  offered  me  his  hand  ;  but  under 
the  condition,  that  as  tlie  wife  of  a  man  who  must  keep  house  like 


BOOK  VI.  283 

other  people,  I  slioiild  alter  my  opinions.  I  returned  Inm  many 
tlianks  ;  and  hastened  with  my  heart  and  mind  away  from  this 
transaction  ;  as  one  hastens  fro  m  the  playhouse  when  the  curtain 
falls.  And  as  he,  a  short  time  afterwards,  liad  fo>ind  a  rich  and 
advantageous  match,  a  thing  now  easy  for  him  ;  and  as  I  now  knew 
him  to  be  happy  iu  the  way  he  liked,  my  own  tranquillity  was  quite 
complete 

I  must  not  pass  in  silence  the  fact,  that  several  times  before  he  got 
a  place,  and  after  it,  there  were  respectable  proposals  made  to  me  ; 
which,  however,  I  declined  without  the  smallest  hesitation,  much  as 
my  father  and  my  mother  could  have  wished  for  more  compliance 
on  my  part. 

At  length,  after  a-  stormy  March  and  April,  the  loveliest  May 
weather  seemed  to  be  allotted  me.  With  good  health,  I  enjoyed  an 
indescribable  composure  of  mind  :  look  around  me  as  I  pleased,  my 
loss  appeared  a  gain  to  me.  Young  and  full  of  sensibility,  1  thought 
the  universe  a  thoiisand  times  more  beautiful  than  formerly,  when 
I  required  to  have  society  and  play,  that  in  the  fair  garden  tedium 
might  not  overtake  me.  And  now,  as  I  did  not  conceal  my  piety,  I 
likewise  took  heart  to  own  my  love  for  the  sciences  and  arts.  I 
drew,  painted,  read  ;  and  found  enough  of  people  to  support  me  :  in- 
stead of  the  great  world,  which  I  had  left,  or  rather  which  had  left 
me,  a  smaller  one  formed  itself  about  me,  which  was  infinitely  richer 
and  more  entertaining.  I  had  a  turn  for  social  life  ;  and  I  do  not 
deny  that,  on  giving  iip  my  old  acquaintances,  I  trembled  at  the 
thought  of  solitude.  I  now  found  myself  abundantly,  perhaps  ex- 
cessively, indemnified.  My  acquaintances  ere  long  were  very  niimer- 
ous  ;  not  at  home  only,  but  likewise  among  people  at  a  distance. 
My  story  had  been  noised  abroad  ;  and  many  persons  felt  a  curiosity 
to  see  the  woman  who  had  valued  God  above  her  bridegroom.  There 
was  a  certain  pious  tone  to  be  observed,  at  the  time,  generally  over 
Germany.  In  the  families  of  several  counts  and  princes,  a  care  for 
the  welfare  of  the  soul  had  been  awakened.  Nor  were  there  wanting 
noblemen  who  showed  a  like  attention  ;  while  in  the  inferior  classes, 
sentiments  of  this  kind  were  diffused  on  every  side. 

The  noble  family,  whom  I  mentioned  above,  now  drew  me  nearer 
to  them.  They  had,  in  the  meanwhile,  gathered  strength  ;  several 
of  their  relations  having  settled  in  the  town.  These  estimable  per- 
sons courted  my  familiarity,  as  I  did  theirs.  They  had  high  connec- 
tions ;  I  became  acquainted,  in  their  house,  with  a  great  part  of  the 
princes,  counts,  and  lords  of  the  empire.  My  sentiments  were  not 
concealed  from  any  one  ;  they  might  be  honored  or  be  tolerated  ;  I 
obtained  my  object,  none  attacked  me. 

There  was  yet  another  way,  by  which  I  was  again  led  back  into 
the  world.  About  this  period,  a  step-brother  of  my  father,  who  till 
now  had  never  visited  the  house,  except  in  passing,  stayed  with  us 
for  a  considerable  time.     He  had  left  the  service  of  his  court,  where 


284  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

he  enjoyed  great  influence  and  lionor,  simply  because  all  matters 
were  not  managed  quite  according  to  his  mind.  His  intellect  was 
just,  his  character  was  rigid.  In  these  points  he  was  very  like  my 
father  ;  only  the  latter  had  withal  a  certain  touch  of  softness,  which 
enabled  him  with  greater  ease  to  yield  a  little  in  affairs,  and  though 
not  to  do,  yet  to  permit,  some  things  against  his  own  conviction  ;  and 
then  to  evaporate  his  anger  at  them,  either  in  silence  by  himself,  or 
in  confidence  amid  his  family.  My  uncle  was  a  great  deal  younger  ; 
and  his  independence  of  spirit  had  been  favored  by  his  outward  cir- 
cumstances. His  mother  had  been  very  rich  ;  and  he  still  had  large 
possessions  to  expect  from  her  near  and  distant  relatives  ;  so  he 
needed  no  foreign  increase  ;  whereas  my  father,  with  his  moderate 
fortune,  was  bound  to  his  place  by  the  consideration  of  his  salary. 

My  uncle  had  become  still  more  unbending  from  domestic  suffer- 
ings. He  had  early  lost  an  amiable  wife  and  a  hopeful  son  ;  and 
from  that  time  he  appeared  to  wish  to  push  away  from  him  every- 
thing that  did  not  hang  upon  his  individual  will. 

In  our  family  it  was  whispered  now  and  then,  with  some  com- 
placency, that  probably  he  would  not  wed  again,  and  so  we  children 
might  anticipate  inheriting  his  fortune.  I  paid  small  regard  to  this  ; 
but  the  demeanor  of  the  rest  was  not  a  little  modified  by  their  hopes. 
In  his  own  imperturbable  firmness  of  character,  my  uncle  had  grown 
into  the  habit  or  never  contradicting  any  one  in  conversation.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  listened  with  a  friendly  air  to  everyone's  opinion, 
and  would  himself  elucidate  and  strengthen  it  by  in.stances  and  rea- 
sons of  his  own.  All  wlio  did  not  know  him  fancied  that  lie  thought 
as  they  did  ;  for  he  was  possessed  of  a  preponderating  intellect,  and 
could  transport  himself  into  the  mental  state  of  any  man,  and  imitate 
his  manner  of  conceiving.  With  me  he  did  not  prosper  quite  so 
well  ;  for  liere  the  question  was  about  emotions,  of  which  he  had  not 
any  glimpse  ;  and  with  whatever  tolerance,  and  sympathy,  and  ra- 
tionality he  spoke  about  my  sentiments,  it  was  palpable  to  me  that 
he  had  not  the  slightest  notion  of  what  formed  the  ground  of  all  my 
conduct. 

With  all  his  secrecy,  we  by  and  by  found  out  the  aim  of  his  unu- 
sual stay  with  us.  He  had,  as  we  at  length  discovered,  cast  his  eyes 
upon  our  youngest  sister,  with  the  view  of  giving  her  in  marriage 
and  rendering  her  happy  as  he  pleased  ;  and  certainly,  considering 
her  personal  and  mental  attractions,  particularly  when  a  handsome 
fortune  was  laid  into  the  scale  along  with  them,  she  might  pretend 
to  the  first  matches.  His  feelings  towards  me  lie  likewise  showed 
us  pantomimically,  by  procuring  me  a  post  of  canoness,  the  income 
of  which  I  very  soon  began  to  draw. 

My  sister  was  not  so  contented  with  his  care  as  T.  She  now  dis- 
closed to  me  a  tender  secret,  which  hitherto  she  l)ad  very  wisely  kept 
back  ;  fearing,  as  in  truth  it  happened,  that  I  would  by  all  means 
counsel  her  against  connection  with  a  man  who  was  not  suited  to  lier. 


BOOK  VI.  285 

I  did  my  utmost,  and  succeeded.  The  purpose  of  ray  uncle  was  too 
serious  and  too  distinct  ;  the  prospect  for  my  sister,  with  her  worldly 
views,  was  too  delightful  to  be  thwarted  by  a  passion  which  her  own 
understanding  disapproved  :  she  mustered  force  to  give  it  up. 

On  lier  ceasing  to  resist  the  gentle  guidance  of  my  uncle,  the  found- 
ation of  his  plan  was  quickly  laid.  She  was  appointed  maid  of  honor 
at  a  neighboring  court,  where  he  could  commit  her  to  the  oversight 
and  the  instructions  of  a  lady,  his  friend,  who  presided  there  as  gov- 
eruess-inchief,  with  great  applause.  I  accompanied  her  to  the  place 
of  her  new  abode.  Both  of  us  had  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  the 
reception  we  met  with  ;  and  frequently  I  could  not  help,  in  secret, 
smiling  at  the  character,  which  now  as  canoness,  as  young  and  pious 
canoness,  I  was  enacting  in  the  world. 

In  earlier  times,  a  situation  such  as  this  would  have  confused  me 
dreadfully  ;  perhaps  liave  turned  my  head  ;  but  now,  in  midst  of 
all  the  splendors  that  surrounded  me,  I  felt  extremely  cool.  With 
great  quietness,  I  let  them  frizzle  me,  and  deck  me  out  for  hours  ; 
and  thought  no  more  of  it  than  that  my  place  required  me  to  wear 
that  gala  livery.  In  the  thronged  saloons,  I  spoke  with  all  and  cacli, 
though  no  shape  or  character  among  them  made  any  impression  on 
me.  On  returning  to  my  house,  nearly  all  the  feeling  I  brought  back 
with  me  was  that  of  tired  limbs.  Yet  my  understanding  drew  ad- 
vantage from  the  multitude  of  persons  whom  I  saw  ;  and  I  became 
acquainted  with  some  ladies,  patterns  of  every  virtue,  of  a  noble  and 
good  demeanor ;  particularly  with  the  governess-in-chief,  under  whom 
my  sister  was  to  have  the  happiness  of  being  formed. 

At  my  return,  however,  the  consequences  of  this  journey,  in  re- 
gard to  health,  were  found  to  "be  less  favorable.  With  the  greatest 
temperance,  the  strictest  diet,  I  had  not  been,  as  I  used  to  be,  com- 
pletely mistress  of  my  time  and  strength.  Food,  motion,  rising  and 
going  to  sleep,  dressing  and  visiting,  had  not  depended,  as  at  home, 
on  my  own  conveniency  and  will.  In  the  circle  of  social  life,  you 
cannot  stop  without  a  breach  of  courtesy  :  all  that  was  needful  I  had 
willingly  performed  ;  because  I  looked  upon  it  as  my  duty,  because 
I  knew  that  it  would  soon  be  over,  and  because  I  felt  myself  com- 
pletely healthy.  Yet  this  unusual  restless  life  must  have  had  more 
effect  upon  me  than  I  was  aware  of.  Scarcely  had  I  reached  home, 
and  cheered  my  parents  with  a  comfortable  narrative,  when  I  was 
attacked  by  a  hemorrhage,  which,  although  it  did  not  prove  dangerous 
or  lasting,  yet  left  a  weakness  after  it,  perceptible  for  many  a  day. 

Here,  then,  I  had  another  lesson  to  repeat.  I  did  it  joyfully. 
Nothing  bound  me  to  the  world  ;  and  I  was  convinced  that  here  the 
true  good  was  never  to  be  found  ;  so  I  waited  in  the  cheerf ulest  and 
meekest  state  ;  and  after  having  abdicated  life,  I  was  retained  in  it. 

A  new  trial  was  awaiting  me  :  my  mother  took  a  painful  and  op- 
pressive ailment,  which  she  had  to  bear  five  years,  before  she  paid 
the  debt  of  nature.     All  this  time  we  were  sharply  proved.     Often, 


386  ME18TER  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

wlieu  her  terror  grew  too  strong,  slie  would  have  us  all  summoned, 
in  the  night,  to  her  bed,  that  so  at  least  she  might  be  busied,  if  not 
bettered,  by  our  presence.  The  load  grew  heavier,  nay,  scarcely  to  be 
borne,  when  my  father  too  became  unwell.  From  his  youth,  he  had 
frequently  had  violent  headaches  ;  which,  however,  at  longest  never 
used  to  last  beyond  six-and-thirty  hours.  But  now  they  were  con- 
tinual ;  and  when  the}-  mounted  to  a  high  degree  of  pain,  his  moan- 
ings  tore  my  very  heart  It  was  in  these  tempestuous  seasons  that  I 
chiefly  felt  my  bodily  weakness  ;  because  it  kept  me  from  my  holiest 
and  dearest  duties,  or  rendered  the  performance  of  them  hard  to  an 
extreme  degree. 

It  was  now  that  I  could  try  whether  the  path,  which  I  had  chosen, 
was  th©  path  of  phantasy  or  truth  ;  whether  I  had  merely  thought  as 
others  showed  me,  or  the  object  of  my  trust  had  a  reality.  To  my 
unspeakable  support,  I  always  found  the  latter.  The  straight  direc- 
tion of  my  heart  to  (iod,  the  fellowship  of  the  "  Beloved  Ones"*  I 
had  souglit  and  found  ;  and  this  was  what  made  all  things  light  to 
me.  As  a  traveler  in  tlie  dark,  my  soul,  when  all  was  pressing  on 
me  from  without,  hastened  to  the  place  of  refuge,  and  never  did  it 
return  empty. 

In  later  times,  some  champions  of  religion,  who  seem  to  be  ani- 
mated more  by  zeal  than  feeling  for  it,  have  required  of  tlieir  brethren 
to  produce  examples  of  prayers  actually  heard  ;  apparently  as  wish- 
ing to  have  seal  and  signature,  that  so  they  might  proceed  juridicallj' 
in  the  matter.  How  unknown  must  the  true  feeling  be  to  these  per- 
sons ;  how  few  real  experiences  can  they  themselves  have  made  ! 

I  can  say  that  I  never  returned  empty,  when  in  straits  and  oppres- 
sions I  called  on  God.  This  is  saying'  infinitely  much  ;  more  I  must 
not  and  cannot  say.  Important  as  each  experience  was  at  that  criti- 
cal moment  for  myself,  the  recital  of  them  would  be  flat,  improbable 
and  insignificant,  were  I  to  specify  the  separate  cases.  Happy  was  I, 
that  a  thousand  little  incidents  in  combination  proved,  as  clearly  as 
the  drawing  of  my  breath  proved  me  to  be  living,  that  I  was  not  with- 
out God  in  the  world.  He  was  near  to  me,  I  was  before  him.  This 
is  what,  with  a  diligent  avoidance  of  all  theological  systematic  terms, 
I  can  with  the  greatest  truth  declare. 

Much  do  I  wish  that,  in  those  times  too,  I  had  been  entirely  with- 
out system.  But  which  of  us  arrives  early  at  the  happiness  of  being 
conscious  of  his  individual  self,  in  its  own  pure  combination,  without 
extraneous  forms  V  I  was  in  earnest  with  religion.  I  timidly  trusted 
in  the  judgments  of  others  ;  I  entii'ely  gave  in  to  the  Halle  system  of 
conversion  ;  but  my  nature  would  by  no  means  tally  with  it. 

According  to  this  scheme  of  doctrine,  the  alteration  of  the  heart 
must  begin  with  a  deep  terror  on  account  of  sin  ;  the  heart  in  this 
agony  must  recognize,  in  a  less  or  greater  degree,  the  punishment 

*  So  in  the  original,— Ed, 


BOOK  VL  287 

which  it  has  merited,  must  get  a  foretaste  of  hell,  and  so  embitter 
the  delight  of  sin.  At  last  it  feels  a  very  palpable  assurance  of  grace  ; 
which,  however,  in  its  progress  often  fades  away,  and  must  again 
be  sought  with  earnest  prayer. 

Of  all  this  no  jot  or  tittle  happened  with  me.  When  I  sought  God 
sincerely,  he  let  himself  be  fouud  of  me,  and  did  not  reproach  me 
about  bygone  things.  On  looking  back,  I  saw  well  enough  where  I 
had  been  unworthy,  where  I  still  was  so  ;  but  the  confession  of  my 
faults  was  altogether  without  terror.  Not  for  a  moment  did  the  fear 
of  hell  occur  to  me  :  nay,  the  very  notion  of  a  wicked  spirit,  and  a 
place  of  punishment  and  torment  after  death,  could  nowise  gain  ad- 
mission into  the  circle  of  my  thoughts.  I  considered  the  men  who 
lived  without  God,  whose  hearts  were  shut  against  the  tru«t  in  and 
the  love  of  the  Invisible,  as  already  so  unhappy  that  a  hell  and  ex- 
ternal pains  appeared  to  promise  rather  an  alleviation  than  an  increase 
of  their  misery.  I  had  but  to  look  upon  the  persons,  in  this  world, 
who  in  their  breasts  gave  scope  to  hateful  feelings  ;  who  hardened 
their  hearts  against  the  good  of  whatever  kind,  and  strove  to  force 
the  evil  on  themselves  and  others  ;  who  shut  their  eyes  by  day,  that 
so  they  might  deny  the  shining  of  the  sun.  How  unutterably 
wretched  did  these  persons  seem  to  me  !  Who  could  have  formed  a 
hell  to  make  their  situation  worse 't 

This  mood  of  mind  continued  in  me,  without  change,  for  half  a 
score  of  years.  It  maintained  itself  through  many  trials  :  even  at 
the  moving  death-bed  of  my  beloved  mother.  I  was  frank  enough, 
on  this  occasion,  not  to  hide  my  comfortable  frame  of  mind  from  cer- 
tain pious  but  rigorously  orthodox  people  ;  and  I  had  to  suffer  many 
a  friendly  admonition  on  that'  score.  They  reckoned  they  were  just 
in  season  for  explaining  with  what  earnestness  one  should  be  diligent 
to  lay  a  right  foundation  in  the  daj^s  of  health  and  youth. 

In  earnestness  I  too  determined  not  to  fail.  For  the  moment,  I 
allowed  myself  to  be  convinced  ;  and  fain  would  I  have  grown,  for 
life,  distressed  and  full  of  fears.  But  what  was  my  surprise  on  find- 
ing tliat  I  absolutely  could  not  !  When  I  thought  of  God,  I  was 
cheerful  and  contented  :  even  at  the  painful  end  of  my  dear  mother, 
I  did  not  shudder  at  the  thought  of  death.  Yet  I  learned  many  and 
far  other  things  than  my  uncalled  teachers  thought  of,  in  these  sol- 
emn hours. 

By  degrees,  I  grew  to  doubt  the  dictates  of  so  many  famous  people, 
and  retained  my  own  sentiments  in  silence.  A  certain  lady  of  my 
friends,  to  whom  I  had  at  first  disclosed  too  much,  insisted  always  on 
interfering  with  my  business.  Of  her  too  I  was  obliged  to  rid  myself  ; 
I  at  last  firmly  told  her,  that  she  might  spare  herself  this  labor,  as  I 
did  not  need  her  counsel  :  that  I  knew  my  God,  and  would  have  no 
guide  but  him.  She  was  greatly  offended  ;  I  believe  she  never  quite 
forgave  me. 

Such  determination,  to  withdraw  from  the  advice  and  tlie  influence 


288  MEISTER'S  apprenticeship. 

of  my  friends,  in  spiritual  matters,  produced  the  consequence,  that 
also  in  my  temporal  affairs  I  gained  sufficient  courage  to  obey  my 
own  persuasions.  But  for  the  assistance  of  my  faithful  Invisible 
Leader,  I  could  not  have  prospered  here.  I  am  still  gratefully  aston- 
ished at  his  wise  and  happy  guidance.  No  one  knew  how  matters 
stood  with  me  ;  even  I  myself  did  not  know. 

The  thing,  the  wicked  and  inexplicable  thing,  which  separates  us 
from  the  Being  to  whom  we  owe  our  life,  and  in  whom  all  that 
deserves  the  name  of  life  must  find  its  nourishment  ;  the  thing  which 
we  call  sin,  I  yet  knew  nothing  of. 

In  my  intercourse  with  my  Invisible  Friend,  I  felt  the  sweetest 
enjoyment  of  all  my  powers.  My  desire  of  constantly  enjoying  this 
felicity©  was  so  predominant,  that  I  abandoned  without  hesitation 
whatever  mari-ed  our  intercourse  ;  and  here  experience  was  my  best 
teacher.  But  it  was  with  me  as  with  sick  persons,  who  have  no 
medicine,  and  try  to  help  themselves  by  diet.  Something  is  accom- 
plished, but  far  from  enough. 

I  could  not  always  live  in  solitude  ;  though  in  it  I  found  the  best 
preservative  against  tlie  dissipation  of  my  thoughts.  On  returning 
to  the  tumult,  the  impression  it  produced  upon  me  was  thedee])er  for 
my  previous  loneliness.  My  most  peculiar  advantage  lay  in  this, 
that  love  for  quiet  was  my  ruling  passion,  and  that  in  the  end  I  still 
drew  back  to  it.  I  perceived,  as  in  a  kind  of  twilight,  my  w^eakness 
and  my  misery  ;  and  tried  to  save  myself  by  avoiding  danger  and 
exposure. 

For  seven  years,  I  had  used  my  dietetic  scheme.  I  held  myself  not 
wicked,  and" I  thought  my  state  desirable.  But  for  some  peculiar 
circumstances  and  occurrences,  I  had  remained  in  this  position  :  it 
was  by  a  curious  path  that  I  got  farther.  Contrary  to  the  advice  of 
all  my  friends,  I  entered  on  a  new  connection.  Their  objections,  at 
first,  'made  me  pause.  I  turned  to  my  Invisible  Leader,  and,  as  he 
permitted  me,  I  went  forward  without  fear. 

A  man  of  spirit,  heart  and  talents  had  bought  a  property  beside  us. 
Among  the  strangers  whom  I  grow  acquainted  with,  were  this  person 
and  his  family.  In  our  manners,  domestic  economy  and  habits  we 
accorded  well  ;  and  tlius  Ave  soon  approximated  to  each  other. 

Philo,  as  I  propose  to  call  him,  was  already  middle-aged  :  in  cer- 
tain matters  he  was  highly  serviceable  to  my  father,  whose  strength 
was  now  decaying.  He  soon  became  the  friend  of  the  family  ;  and 
finding  in  me,  as  he  was  pleased  to  say,  a  person  free  alike  from  the 
extravagance  and  emptiness  of  the  great  world,  and  from  the  narrow- 
ness and  aridness  of  tlie  still  world  in  the  country,  he  courted  inti- 
macy with  me,  and  ere  long  we  were  in  one  another's  confidence.  To 
me  he  was  very  pleasing  and  useful. 

Though  I  did  not  feel  the  smallest  inclination  or  capacity  for  ming- 
ling in  public  business,  or  seeking  any  infiuence  on  it,  yet  I  liked  to 
hear  al)out  such  matters,  liked  to  know  whatever  happened  far  and 


nOOK  Vi.  289 

hear.  Of  wordly  things,  I  loved  to  get  a  clear  tliougli  unconcerned 
perception  ;  feeling,  sympathy,  affection,  I  reserved  for  God,  for  my 
people  and  my  friends. 

The  latter  were,  if  I  may  say  so,  jealous  of  Philo,  in  my  new  con- 
nection with  him.  In  more  than  one  sense,  they  were  right  in  warn- 
ing me  about  it.  1  suffered  much  in  secret  ;  for  even  I  could  not 
consider  their  remonstrances  as  altogether  empty  or  selfish.  I  had 
been  accustomed,  from  of  old,  to  give  a  reason  for  my  views  and  con- 
duct ;  but  in  this  case  my  conviction  would  not  follow.  I  prayed  to 
God,  that  here  as  elsewhere  he  would  warn,  restrain  and  guide  me  ; 
and  as  my  heart  on  this  did  not  dissuade  me,  I  went  forward  on  my 
way  with  comfoft. 

Philo,  on  the  whole,  had  a  remote  resemblance  to  Narcisa*;  only  a 
pious  education  had  more  enlivened  and  concentrated  his  feelings. 
He  had  less  vanity,  more  character  ;  and,  in  business,  if  Narciss  was 
delicate,  exact,  persevering,  indefatigable,  the  other  was  clear,  sharp, 
quick  and  capable  of  working  with  incredible  ease.  By  means  of  him, 
I  learned  the  secret  history  of  almost  every  noble  personage  with 
whose  exterior  I  had  got  acquainted  in  society.  It  was  pleasant  for 
me  to  behold  the  tumult,  off  my  watch-tower,  from  afar.  Philo 
could  now  hide  nothing  from  me  ;  he  confided  to  me,  by  degrees,  his 
own  concerns  both  inward  and  outward.  I  was  in  fear  because  of 
him  ;  for  I  foresaw  certain  circumstances  and  entanglements  ;  and 
the  mischief  came  more  speedily  than  I  had  looked  for.  There  were 
some  confessions  he  had  still  kept  back  ;  and  even  at  last  he  tojd  me 
only  what  enabled  me  to  guess  the  worst. 

What  an  effect  had  this  upon  my  heart  !  I  attained  experiences 
which  to  me  were  altogether  new.  With  infinite  sorrow  I  beheld  an 
Agathon,  who,  educated  in  the  groves  of  Delphi,  still  owed  his 
school-fees,  which  he  was  now  obliged  to  pay  with  their  accumulated 
interest  ;  and  this  Agathon  was  my  especial  friend.  My  sympathy 
was  lively  and  complete  :  I  suffered  with  him  ;  both  of  us  were  in 
the  strangest  state. 

After  having  long  occupied  myself  with  the  temper  of  his  mind,  1 
at  last  turned  round  to  contemplate  my  own.  The  thought,  "  Thou 
art  no  better  than  he,"  rose  like  a  little  cloud  before  me,  and  gradu- 
ally expanded  till  it  darkened  all  my  soul. 

I  now  not  only  thought  myself  no  better  than  he  ;  I  felt  this,  ami 
felt  it  as  I  should  not  wish  to  do  again.  Nor  was  it  any  transitory 
mood.  For  more  than  a  year  I  was  compelled  to  feel  that,  had  not  an 
unseen  hand  restrained  me,  I  might  have  become  a  Girard,  a  Car- 
touch,  a  Damiens,  or  any  wretch  you  can  imagine.  The  tendencies 
to  this  I  traced  too  clearly  to  my  heart.     Heavens,  what  a  discovery  I 

If  hitherto  I  had  never  been  able,  in  the  faintest  degree,  to  recog- 
nize in  myself  the  reality  of  sin  by  experience,  its  possibility  was  now 
become  apparent  to  me  by  anticipation,  in  the  frightfulest  manner. 
Meister— ^10 


300  MEISTEE'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

And  yet  I  knew  not  evil  ;  but  I  feared  it :  T  felt  that  I  might  be  guilty, 
and  could  not  accuse  myself  of  being  so. 

Deeply  as  I  was  convinced  that  such  a  temperament  of  soul,  as  I 
now  saw  mine  to  be,  could  never  be  adapted  for  that  union  with  the 
Invisible  Being,  which  I  hoped  for  after  death  ;  1  did  not,  in  the 
smallest,  fear  that  1  should  finally  be  separated  from  him.  With  all  the 
Avickedness  which  I  discovered  in  my  heart,  1  still  loved  /lim  ;  I  hated 
what  I  felt,  nay,  wished  to  liate  it  still  more  earnestly  ;  my  whole 
desire  was  to  be  delivered  from  this  siclcness,  and  this  tendency  to 
sickness  ;  and  I  was  persuaded  that  the  (^Jreat  Physician  would  at 
length  vouchsafe  his  help. 

The  sole  question  was  :  What  medicine  will  cure  this  malady  ? 
The  practice  of  virtue  ?  This  1  could  not  for  a  moment  think.  For 
ten  years,  I  had  already  practiced  more  than  mere  virtue  ;  and  the_ 
horrors  now  first  discovered  had,  all  the  while,  lain  hidden  at  the  bot- 
tom of  my  soul.  Might  they  not  have  broken  out  with  me,  as  they 
did  with  David  when  he  looked  on  Bathsheba '!  Yet  was  not  he  a 
friend  of  God  ;  and  Avas  not  I  assured  in  my  inmost  heart  that  God 
was  my  friend  ? 

Was  it  then  an  unavoidable  infirmity  of  human  nature  ?  Must  we 
just  content  ourselves  in  feeling  and  acknowledging  the  sovereignty 
of  inclination?  And  with  the  best  will,  is  there  nothing  left  for  us 
but  to  abhor  the  fault  we  have  committed,  and  on  the  like  occasion  to 
commit  it  again  ? 

From  systems  of  morality  I  could  obtain  no  comfort.  Neither  their 
severity,  by  which  they  try  to  bend  our  inclinations,  nor  their  at- 
tractiveness, by  which  they  try  to  please  our  inclinations  on  the  side 
of  virtue,  gave  me  any  satisfaction.  The  fundamental  notions,  which 
I  had  imbibed  from  intercourse  with  my  Invisible  Friend,  were  of  far 
higher  value  to  me. 

Once,  while  I  was  studying  the  songs  composed  by  David  after  that 
tremendous  fall,  it  struck  me  very  much  that  he  traced  his  indwelling 
corruption  even  in  the  substance  out  of  which  he  had  been  shaped  ; 
yet  that  he  wished  to  be  freed  from  sin,  and  that  he  earnestly  en- 
treated for  a  pure  heart. 

But  how  was  this  to  be  attained?  The  answer  from  scripture  1 
was  well  aware  of  :  "that  the  blood  of  Jesus  cleanseth  usj'rom  all 
sin,"  was  a  Bible  truth  which  I  had  long  known.  But  now  for  the 
first  time,  I  observed  that  as  yet  I  had  never  understood  this  oft- 
repeated  saying.  The  questions  :  W'hat  does  it  mean  ?  How  is  it  to 
be  ?  were,  day  and  night,  working  out  their  answers  in  me.  At  last  I 
thought  I  saw,  by  a  gleam  of  light,  that  Avhat  1  sought  was  to  be 
foiTud  in  the  incarnation  of  the  everlasting  \^'ord,  by  whom  all  things, 
even  we  ourselves,  were  made.  That  the  Eternal  descended  as  an 
inhabitant  to  the  depths  in  which  we  dwell,  which  he  surveys  and 
comprehends  ;  that  he  passed  through  our  lot  from  stage  to  stage, 
from  conception  and  birth  to  the  grave  ;  that  by  this  marvelous  circuit 


BOOK  VL  2n 

he  again  mounted  to  those  shining  heights,  whither  we  too  must  rise 
in  order  to  be  happy  :  all  this  was  revealed  to  me,  as  in  a  dawning 
remoteness. 

Oh  !  why  must  we,  in  speaking  of  such  things,  make  use  of  figures, 
which  can  only  indicate  external  situations  !  Where  is  there  in  His 
eyes  aught  high  or  deep,  aught  dark  or  clear  !  It  is  we  only  that 
have  an  under  and  upper,  a  night  and  day.  And  even  for  this  did  He 
became  like  us,  since  otherwise  we  could  have  had  no  part  in  Him. 

But  how  shall  we  obtain  a  share  in  this  priceless  benefit?  "By 
faith,"  the  scripture  says.  And  what  is  faith?  To  consider  the  ac- 
count of  an  event  as  true,  what  help  can  this  afEord  me  ?  I  must  be 
enabled  to  ai)propriate  its  effects,  its  consequences.  This  appropri- 
ating faith  must  be  a  state  of  mind  peculiar,  and  to  the  natural  man 
unknown. 

"  Now,  gracious  Father,  grant  me  faith  !  "  so  prayed  I  once,  in  the 
deepest  heaviness  of  heart.  I  was  leaning  on  a  little  table,  where  I 
sat  ;  my  tear-stained  countenance  was  hidden  in  my  hands.  I  was 
now  in  the  condition  in  which  we  seldom  are,  but  in  which  we  are 
recjuired  to  be,  if  God  is  to  regard  our  prayers. 

O,  that  I  could  but  paint  what  I  felt  then  !  A  sudden  force  drew 
my  soul  to  the  cross  where  Jesus  once  expired  ;  it  was  a  sudden  force, 
a  pull,  I  cannot  name  it  otherwise,  such  as  leads  our  soul  to  an  absent 
loved  one  ;  an  approximation,  which  perhaps  is  far  more  real  and 
true  than  we  imagine.  So  did  my  soul  approach  the  Son  of  Man, 
who  had  died  upon  the  cross  ;  and  that  instant  did  I  know  what  faith 
was. 

"This  is  faith  !  '  said  I ;  and  started  up  as  if  half  frightened.  I 
now  endeavored  to  get  certain  of  my  feeling,  of  my  view  ;  and  shortly 
I  became  convinced  that  my  soul  had  acquired  a  power  of  soaring  up- 
wards, which  was  altogether  new  to  it. 

Words  fail  us  in  describing  such  emotions.  I  could  most  distinctly 
separate  them  from  all  phantasy  :  they  were  entirely  without  phan- 
tasy, without  image  ;  yet  they  gave  us  just  such  certainty  of  their 
referring  to  some  object,  as  our  imagination  gives  us  when  it  paints 
the  features  of  an  absent  lover. 

When  the  first  rapture  was  over,  I  observed  that  my  present  condi- 
tion of  mind  had  formerly  been  known  to  me  ;  only  I  had  never  felt 
it  in  such  strength  ;  I  had  never  held  it  fast,  never  made  it  mine.  I 
believe,  indeed,  every  human  soul  at  intervals  feels  something  of  it. 
Doubtless  it  is  this  which  teaches  every  mortal  that  there  is  a  (iod. 

With  such  faculty,  wont  from  of  old  to  visit  me  now  and  then,  I 
had  hitherto  been  well  content  ;  and  had  not,  by  a  singular  arrange- 
ment of  events,  that  unexpected  sorrow  weighed  upon  me  for  a 
twelvemonth  ;  had  not  my  own  ability  and  strength,  on  that  occasion, 
altogether  lost  credit  with  me  ;  I  perhaps  might  have  remained  con- 
tent with  such  a  state  of  matters  all  my  days. 

But  now,  since  that  great  moment,  I  had  as  it  were  got  wings.     I 


292  MEISTER'S  APPBENTIVE8HIP. 

could  mount  aloft  above  what  used  to  threaten  me  ;  as  the  bird  can 
fly  singing  and  with  ease  across  the  fiercest  stream,  while  the  little 
dog  stands  anxiously  baying  on  the  bank. 

My  joy  was  indescribable  ;  and  though  I  did  not  mention  it  to  any 
one,  my  people  soon  observed  an  unaccustomed  cheerfulness  in  me, 
and  could  not  understand  the  reason  of  my  joy.  Had  I  but  forever 
held  my  peace,  and  tried  to  nourish  this  serene  temper  in  my  soul  ! 
had  I  not  allowed  myself  to  be  misled  by  circumstances,  so  as  to 
reveal  my  secret  !  I  might  then  have  been  saved,  once  more,  a  long 
and  tedious  circuit. 

As  in  the  previous  ten  years  of  my  Christian  course,  this  necessary 
force  had  not  existed  in  my  soul,  I  had  just  been  in  the  case  of  other 
worthy  people  ;  had  helped  myself  by  keeping  niy  fancy  always  full 
of  images,  which  had  some  reference  to  God  :  a  practice  so  far  truly 
useful;  for  noxious  images  and  their  baneful  consequences  are  by 
that  means  kept  away.  Often,  too,  our  spirit  seizes  one  or  other  of 
these  spiritual  images,  and  mounts  with  it  a  little  way  upwards  ;  like 
a  young  bird  fluttering  from  twig  to  twig. 

Images  and  impressions  pointing  towards  God  are  presented  to  us 
by  the  institutions  of  the  cliurch,  by  organs,  bells,  singing,  and  par- 
ticularly by  the  preaching  of  our  pastors.  Of  these.  I  used  to  be  un- 
speakably desirous  ;  no  weapon,  no  bodily  weakness  could  keep  me 
from  church  ;  the  sound  of  the  Sunday  bells  was  the  only  thing  that 
rendered  me  impatient  on  a  sick-bed.  Our  head  court  chaplain,  a 
gifted  man,  I  heard  with  great  pleasure  ;  his  colleagues  too  I  liked  ; 
and  I  could  pick  the  golden  apple  of  the  word  from  the  common  fruity 
with  which  on  earthen  platters  it  was  mingled.  With  public  ordi- 
nances, all  sorts  of  private  execises  were  combined  ;  and  these  too 
only  nourished  fancy  and  a  finer  kind  of  sense.  I  was  so  accustomed 
to  this  track,  I  reverenced  it  so  much,  that  even  now  no  higher  one 
occurred  to  me.  For  my  soul  has  only  feelers,  and  not  eyes  ;  it, 
gropes,  but  does  not  see.      Ah  !  that  it  could  get  eyes  and  look. 

Now  again,  therefore,  I  went  with  a  longing  mind  to  sermon  ;  but 
alas,  what  happened  !  I  no  longer  found  what  I  was  wont  to  find. 
These  preachers  were  blunting  their  teeth  on  the  shell,  while  I  en- 
joyed the  kernel.  I  soon  grew  weary  of  them ;  and  I  had  already 
been  so  spoiled,  that  I  could  not  be  content  with  the  little  they 
afforded  me.  I  required  images,  1  wanted  impressions  from  without ; 
and  reclioned  it  a  pure  spiritual  desire  that  I  felt. 

Philo's  parents  had  been  in  connection  with  the  Herrnhuter  com- 
munity ;  in  his  library  were  many  writings  of  Count  Zinzendorf's. 
He  had  spoken  with  me,  more  than  once,  very  candidly  and  clearly 
on  the  subject  ;  inviting  me  to  turn  over  one  or  two  of  these  treatises, 
if  it  were  but  for  the  sake  of  studying  a  psychological  phenomenon. 
I  looked  upon  the  count,  and  those  that  followed  him,  as  very  heter- 
odox ;  and  so  the  Ebersdorf  hymn-book,  which  my  friend  had  pressed 
upon  me,  lay  unread. 


BOOK  VI.  393 

However,  in  this  total  destitution  of  external  excitements  for  my 
soul,  I  opened  the  hymn-book,  as  it  were  by  chance  ;  and  found  in 
it,  to  my  astonishment,  some  songs  which  actually,  thouo-h  under  a 
fantastic  form,  appeared  to  shadow  what  1  felt.  The  originality  and 
simplicity  of  their  expression  drew  me  on.  It  seemed  to  be  peculiar 
emotions  expressed  in  a  peculiar  way  ;  no  school  technology  sug- 
gested any  notion  of  formality  or  commonplace.  I  was  persuaded 
that  these  people  felt  as  I  did  :  I  was  very  happy  to  lay  hold  of  here 
and  there  a  stanza  in  their  songs,  to  fix  it  in  my  memory,  and  carry 
it  about  with  me  for  days. 

Since  the  moment  when  the  truth  had  been  revealed  to  me,  some 
three  mouths  had  in  this  way  passed  on.  At  last  I  came  to  the  resolu- 
tion of  disclosing  everything  to  Philo,  and  asking  him  to  let  me  have 
those  writings,  about  which  I  had  now  become  immoderately  curious. 
Accordingly  I  did  so,  notwithstanding  there  was  something  in  my 
heart  which  earnestly  dissuaded  me. 

I  circumstantially  related  to  him  all  the  story  ;  and,  as  he  was 
himself  a  leading  person  in  it,  and  my  narrative  conveyed  the  sliarp- 
est  reprimand  on  him,  he  felt  surprised  and  moved  to  an  extreme 
degree.  He  melted  into  tears.  I  rejoiced  ;  believing  that,  in  his 
mind  also,  a  full  and  fundamental  change  had  taken  place. 

He  provided  me  with  all  the  writings  I  could  require  ;  and  now  I 
had  excess  of  nourishment  for  my  imagination.  I  made  rapid  pro- 
gress in  the  Zinzendorfic  mode  of  thought  and  speech.  And  be  it 
not  supposed  that  I  am  yet  incapable  of  prizing  the  peculiar  turn 
and  manner  of  the  count.  I  willingly  do  him  justice  ;  he  is  no  empty 
phautast  ;  he  speaks  of  mighty  truths,  and  mostly  in  a  bold  figura- 
tive style  ;  the  people  who  despise  him  know  not  either  how  to 
value  or  discriminate  his  qualities. 

At  that  time,  I  became  exceedingly  attached  to  him.  Had  I  been 
mistress  of  myself,  I  would  certainly  have  left  my  friends  and  coun- 
try, and  gone  to  join  liim.  We  should  infallibly  have  understood 
each  other,  and  should  hardly  have  agreed  together  long. 

Thanks  to  my  better  genius  that  now  kept  me  so  confined  by  my 
dome.stic  duties.  I  reckoned  it  a  distant  journey  if  I  visited  the  gar- 
den. The  charge  of  my  aged  weakly  father  afforded  me  employment 
enough,  and  in  hours  of  recreation,  I  had  fancy  to  procure  me  pas- 
time. The  only  mortal  whom  I  saw  was  Philo  ;  he  was  highly 
valued  by  my  father  ;  but  with  me,  his  intimacy  had  been  cooled  a 
little  by  tlie  late  explanation.  Its  influence  on  him  had  not  pene- 
trated deep  ;  and  as  some  attempts  to  talk  in  my  dialect  had  not 
succeeded  with  him,  he  avoided  touching  on  this  subject  ;  and  the 
rather,  as  his  extensive  knowledge  put  it  always  in  his  power  to  in- 
troduce new  topics  in  his  conversation. 

I  was  thus  a  Herrnhut  sister  on  my  own  footing.  I  had  especially 
to  hide  tliis  new  turn  of  my  temper  and  my  inclinations  from  the 
h^ad  court  chaplain  ;   whom,  as  my  father  coofessorj   I  had  much 


294  MEISTER  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

cause  to  lionor  ;  and  whose  liigh  merits  liis  extreme  aversion  to  the 
Herrnhut  community  did  not  diminish,  in  my  eyes,  even  then.  Un- 
happily this  worthy  person  had  to  suffer  many  troubles  on  account 
of  me  and  others. 

Several  years  ago,  he  had  become  acquainted  with  an  upright  pious 
gentleman,  residing  in  a  distant  quarter  ;  and  had  long  continued  in 
unbroken  correspondence  with  him,  as  with  one  who  truly  sought 
God.  How  painful  was  it  vvith  the  spiritual  leader,  when  this  gen- 
tleman subsequently  joined  himself  to  the  community  of  Herrnhut, 
where  he  lived  for  a  lon'g  while  !  How  delightful,  on  the  other 
hand,  when  at  length  lie  quarreled  with  the  brethren  ;  determined 
to  settle  in  our  neighborhood  ;  and  seemed  once  more  to  yield  him- 
self completely  to  the  guidance  of  his  ancient  friend  ! 

The  stranger  was  presented,  as  in  triumph,  by  the  upper  pastor  of 
all  the  chosen  lambs  of  his  fold.  To  our  house  alone  he  was  not 
introduced,  because  my  father  did  not  now  see  company.  The  gen- 
tleman obtained  no  little  approbation  :  he  combined  the  polish  of  the 
court  with  the  winning  manner  of  the  brethren  ;' and  having  also 
many  fine  qualities  by  nature,  he  soon  became  the  favorite  saint  with 
all  who  knew  him  ;  a  result  at  which  the  chaplain  was  exceedingly 
contented.  But,  alas  !  it  was  merely  in  externals  that  the  gentle- 
man had  split  with  the  community  ;  in  his  heart  he  was  yet  entirely 
a  Herrnhuter.  He  was,  in  truth,  concerned  for  the  reality  of  the 
matter  ;  but  yet  the  gimcracks  which  the  count  had  stuck  round  it 
were,  at  the  same  time,  quite  adapted  to  his  taste.  Besides,  he  had 
now  become  accustomed  to  this  mode  of  speaking  and  conceiving ; 
and  if  he  had  to  hide  it  carefully  from  his  old  friend,  the  gladder 
was  he,  in  any  knot  of  trusty  persons,  to  come  forth  with  his 
couplets,  litanies  and  little  figures  ;  in  which,  as  might  have  been 
supposed,  he  met  with  great  applause. 

I  knew  nothing  of  the  whole  affair,  and  wandered  quietly  along  in 
my  separate  path.  For  a  good  while  we  continued  mutually  un- 
known. 

Once,  in  a  leisure  hour,  I  happened  to  visit  a  lady  who  was  sick. 
I  found  several  acquaintances  with  her  ;  and  soon  perceived  that  my 
appearance  had  cut  short  their  conversation.  I  affected  not  to  notice 
anything ;  but  saw  ere  long,  with  great  surprise,  some  Herrnhut 
figures  stuck  upon  the  wall  in  elegant  frames.  Quickly  comprehend- 
ing what  had  passed  before  my  entrance,  1  expressed  my  pleasure  at 
the  sight,  in  a  few  suitable  verses. 

Conceive  the  wonder  of  my  friends  !  We  explained  ourselves  ;  in- 
stantly we  were  agreed,  and  in  each  other's  confidence. 

I  often  henceforth  sought  opportunities  of  going  out.  Unhappily 
I  found  such  only  once  in  the  three  or  four  weeks  ;  ytt  I  grew  ac- 
quainted with  our  gentleman  apostle,  and  by  degrees  with  all  the 
body.  I  visited  their  meetings,  when  I  could  :  with  my  social  dispo- 
sition, it  was  quite  delightful  for  me  to  communicate  to  others,  and 


BOOK  VI.  295 

to  hear  from  them,  the  feelings  which,  till  now,  I  had  conceived  and 
harbored  by  myself. 

But  I  was  not  so  conn3letely  taken  with  my  friends,  as  not  to  see 
that  few  of  them  could  really  feel  the  sense  of  those  affecting  words 
and  emblems ;  and  that  from  these  they  drew  as  little  benefit,  as 
formerly  they  did  from  the  symbolic  language  of  the  church.  Yet, 
notwithstanding,  I  went  on  with  them,  not  letting  this  disturb  me. 
I  thought,  I  was  not  called  to  search  and  try  the  hearts  of  others. 
Had  not  I  too,  by  long-continued  innocent  exercisings  of  that  sort, 
been  prepared  for  something  better?  I  had  my  share  of  profit  from 
our  meetings  ;  in  speaking,  I  insisted  on  attending  to  the  sense  and 
spirit,  which,  in  things  so  delicate,  is  rather  apt  to  be  disguised  by 
words  than  indicated  by  them  ;  and  for  the  rest,  I  left,  with  silent 
tolerance,  each  to  act  according  to  his  own  conviction. 

These  quiet  times  of  secret  social  joy  were  shortly  followed  by 
storms  of  open  bickering  and  contradiction  ;  contentions  which  ex- 
cited great  commotion,  1  might  almost  say  occasioned  not  a  little 
scandal,  in  court  and  town.  The  period  was  now  arrived  when  our 
chaplain,  that  stout  gainsayer  of  the  Ilerrnhut  brethren,  must  dis- 
cover, to  his  deep,  but  I  trust,  sanctified  humiliation,  that  his  best 
and  once  most  zealous  hearers  were  now  all  leaning  to  the  side  of 
that  community.  He  was  excessively  provoked  :  in  the  first  mo- 
ments, he  forgot  all  moderation  ;  and  could  not,  even  if  he  had  in- 
clined it,  retract  afterwards.  Violent  debates  took  place  ;  in  which 
happily  I  was  not  mentioned  ;  both  as  being  but  an  accidental  mem- 
ber of  those  hated  meetings  ;  and  then  because,  in  respect  of  certain 
civic  matters,  our  zealous  preacher  could  not  safely  disoblige  either 
my  father  or  my  friend.  With  silent  satisfaction,  1  continued  neutral. 
It  was  irksome  to  me  to  converse  about  such  feelings  and  objects, 
even  with  well-affected  people,  when  they  could  not  penetrate  the 
deepest  sense,  and  lingered  merely  on  the  surface.  But  to  strive 
with  adversaries,  about  things  on  which  even  friends  could  scarcely 
understand  each  other,  seemed  to  me  unprofitable,  nay,  pernicious. 
For  I  soon  perceived  that  many  amialde  nolilemen,  who  on  this  occur- 
rence could  but  shut  their  hearts  to  enmity  and  hatred,  had  rapidly 
passed  over  to  injustice  ;  and  in  order  to  defend  an  outward  form, 
liad  almost  sacrificed  their  most  substantial  duties. 

Far  as  the  worthy  clergyman  might,  in  the  present  case,  be  wrong  ; 
much  as  others  tried  tP  irritate  me  at  him,  I  could  never  hesitate  to 
give  him  my  sincere  respect.  I  knew  him  well  ;  I  could  candidly 
transport  myself  into  his  way  of  looking  at  the.se  matters.  I  have 
never  seen  a  man  without  his  weaknesses  ;  only,  in  distinguished 
men  they  strike  us  more.  We  wish,  and  will  at  all  rates  have  it, 
that  persons  privileged  as  they  are  .should  at  the  same  time  pay  no 
tribute,  ni>  tax  whatever.  I  honored  him  as  a  superior  man  ;  and 
hoped  to  use  the  influence  of  my  calm  neutrality  to  bring  about,  if 
not  a  peace,  at  least  a  truce.     I  know  not  what  my  efforts  might  have 


S96  MEI8TER  '8  APPRENTICESIIIP. 

doue  ;  but  God  concluded  tlie  affair  more  briefly,  aud  took  tbe  cbap- 
lain  to  himself.  On  his  coffin  all  wept,  who  had  lately  been  striving 
with  him  about  words.  His  uprightness,  his  fear  of  God,  no  one 
had  ever  doubted. 

I  too  was,  ere  long,  forced  to  lay  aside  this  Herrnhut  doll- work, 
which,  by  means  of  these  contentions,  now  appeared  before  me  in  a 
rather  different  light.  Our  uncle  had,  in  silence,  executed  his  inten- 
tions with  my  sister.  He  offered  her  a  young  man  of  rank  and  for- 
tune as  a  bridegroom  ;  and  showed,  by  a  rich  dowry,  what  might  be 
expected  of  himself.  My  father  joyfully  consented  ;  my  sister  was 
free  and  forewarned,  she  did  not  hesitate  to  change  her  state.  The 
bridal  was  appointed  at  my  uncle's  castle  ;  family  and  friends  were 
all  invited  ;  and  we  came  together  in  the  cheerfulest  mood. 

For  the  first  time  in  my  life,  the  aspect  of  a  house  excited  admira- 
tion in  me.  I  had  often  heard  of  my  uncle's  taste,  of  his  Italian 
architect,  of  his  collections  and  his  library  ;  but,  comparing  this  with 
what  I  had  already  seen,  I  had  formed  a  very  vague  and  fluctuating 
picture  of  it  in  my  thoughts.  Great,  accordingly,  was  my  surprise  at 
the  earnest  and  harmonious  impression  which  I  felt  on  entering  the 
house,  and  which  every  hall  and  chamber  deepened.  If  elsewhere 
pomp  and  decoration  had  but  dissipated  my  attention,  I  felt  here  con- 
centrated and  drawn  back  upon  myself.  In  like  manner  the  prepara- 
tives for  these  solemnities  and  festivals  produced  a  silent  pleasure,  by 
their  air  of  dignity  and  splendor  ;  and  to  me  it  seemed  as  incon- 
ceivable that  one  man  could  have  invented  and  arranged  all  this,  as 
that  more  than  one  could  have  worked  together  in  so  high  a  spirit. 
Yet  withal,  the  landlord  and  his  people  were  entirely  natural  ;  not  a 
trace  of  stiffness  or  of  empty  form  was  to  be  seen. 

The  wedding  itself  was  managed  in  a  striking  way  ;  an  exquisite 
strain  of  vocal  music  came  upon  us  by  surprise  ;  and  the  clergyman 
went  through  th^  ceremony  with  a  singular  solemnity.  I  was  stand- 
ing by  Philo  at  the  time  ;  and  instead  of  a  congratulation,  he  whis- 
pered in  my  ear  :  "  When  I  saw  your  sister  give  away  her  hand,  I 
felt  as  if  a  stream  of  boiling  water  had  been  poured  over  me." 
"  Why  so?"  I  inquired.  "  It  is  always  the  way  with  me,"  said  he, 
'•  when  I  see  two  people  joined."  I  laughed  at  him  ;  but  I  have 
often  since  had  cause  to  recollect  his  words. 

The  revel  of  the  party,  among  whom  were  many  young  people, 
looked  particularly  glittering  and  airy,  as  everything  around  us  was 
dignified  and  serious.  The  furniture,  plate,  table-ware  and  table  orna- 
ments accorded  with  the  general  whole  ;  and  if  in  other  houses  you 
would  say  the  architect  was  of  the  school  of  the  confectioner,  it  here 
appeared  as  if  our  confectioner  and  butler  had  taken  lessons  from  the 
architect. 

We  stayed  together  several  days  ;  and  our  intelligent  and  gifted 
landlord  had  variedly  provided  for  the  entertainment  of  his  guests.  I 
did  not  in  the  present  case  repeat  the  melancholy  jtroof,  which  has  so 


BOOK  VI.  297 

often  in  my  life  been  forced  upon  me,  how  unhappily  a  large  mixed 
company  are  situated,  when,  altogether  left  to  themselves,  they  have 
to  select  the  most  general  and  vapid  pastimes,  that  the  fools  of  the 
party  may  not  want  amusement,  however  it  may  fare  with  those  that 
are  not  such. 

My  uncle  had  arranged  it  altogether  differently.  Two  or  three 
marshals,  if  I  may  call  them  so,  had  been  appointed  by  him  :  one  of 
them  had  charge  of  providing  entertainment  for  the  young.  Dances, 
excursions,  little  games,  were  of  his  invention,  and  under  his  direc- 
tion ;  and  as  young  people  take  delight  in  being  out  of  doors,  and  do 
not  fear  the  intlueuces  of  the  air,  the  garden  and  garden-hall  had 
been  assigned  to  them  ;  while  some  additional  pavilions  and  galleries 
had  been  erected  and  appended  to  the  latter,  formed  of  boards  and 
canvas  merely,  but  in  sucli  jiroportions,  so  elegant  and  noble,  they 
reminded  one  of  nothing  but  stone  and  marble.  How  rare  is  a  festi- 
vity in  which  the  person  who  invites  the  guests  feels  also  that  it  is 
his  duty  to  provide  for  their  conveniences  and  wants  of  every  kind  ! 
Hunting  and  card  parties,  short  promenades,  opportunities  for  trust- 
ful private  conversations,  were  afforded  the  elder  persons  ;  and  who- 
ever wished  to  go  earliest  to  bed  was  sure  to  be  lodged  the  farthest 
from  noise. 

By  this  happy  order,  the  space  we  lived  in  appeared  to  be  a  little 
world  ;  and  yet,  considered  narrowly,  the  castle  was  not  large  ;  with- 
out an  accurate  knowledge  of  it,  and  without  the  spirit  of  its  owner, 
it  would  have  been  impossible  to  entertain  so  many  people  here,  and 
quarter  each  according  to  his  humor. 

As  the  aspect  Oi."  a  well-formed  person  pleases  us,  so  also  does  a 
fair  establishment,  by  means  of  which  the  presence  of  a  rational 
intelligent  mind  is  manifested.  We  feel  a  joy  in  entering  even  a 
cleanly  house,  though  it  may  be  tasteless  in  its  structure  and  its 
decorations  ;  because  it  shows  us  the  presence  of  a  person  cultivated 
in  at  least  one  sense.  Doubly  pleasing  is  it,  therefore,  when  from  a 
human  dwelling,  the  spirit  of  a  higher  though  merely  sensual  culture 
speaks  to  us. 

All  this  was  vividly  impressed  on  my  observation  at  my  uncle's 
castle.  I  had  heard  and  read  much  of  art  ;  Philo  too  was  a  lover  of 
pictures,  and  had  a  fine  collection  ;  I  myself,  had  often  practiced 
drawing  ;  but  I  had  been  too  deeply  occupied  with  my  emotions  striv- 
ing exclusively  after  the  one  thing  needful,  which  alone  I  was  bent 
on  carrying  to  perfection  ;  and  then  such  objects  of  art  as  I  had  hith- 
erto seen,  appeared,  like  all  other  worldly  objects,  to  distract  my 
thoughts.  But  now,  for  the  first  time,  outward  things  had  led  me 
back  upon  myself  :  I  now  first  perceived  the  difference  between  the 
natural  charm  of  the  nightingale's  song,  and  that  of  a  four- voice  an- 
them pealed  from  the  expressive  organs  of  men. 

My  joy  over  this  discovery  I  did  not  liide  from  my  uncle  ;  who, 
when  all  the  rest  were  settled  at  their  posts,  was  wont  to  come  and 


298  MEISTER'8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

talk  with  me  in  private.  He  spoke  with  great  modesty  of  what  he 
possessed  and  had  produced  here  ;  with  great  decision,  of  the  views 
in  which  it  had  been  gathered  and  arranged  :  and  I  could  easily  ob- 
serve that  he  spoke  with  a  forbearance  towards  me  ;  seeming  in  his 
usual  way,  to  rate  the  excellence  which  he  himself  possessed,  below 
that  other  excellence,  which,  in  my  way  of  thinking,  was  the  best 
and  properest. 

"If  we  can  conceive  it  possible,"  he  once  observed,  "that  the 
Creator  of  the  world  himself  assumed  the  form  of  his  creature,  and 
lived  in  that  manner  for  a  time  upon  earth,  this  creature  must  appear 
of  infinite  perfection,  because  susceptible  of  s.uch  a  combination  with 
its  Maker.  Hence,  in  our  idea  of  man  there  can  be  no  inconsistency 
with  our  idea  of  God  :  and  if  we  often  feel  a  certain  disagreement 
with  him  and  remoteness  from  him,  it  is  but  the  more  on  that  account 
our  duty,  not  like  advocates  of  the  wicked  spirit,  to  keep  our  eyes 
continually  upon  the  nakedness  and  weakness  of  our  nature  ;  but 
rather  to  seek  out  every  property  and  beauty,  by  which  our  pretension 
to  the  similarity  with,  the  Divinity  may  be  made  good." 

I  smiled  and  answered  :  ' '  Do  not  make  me  blush,  dear  uncle,  by 
your  complaisance  in  talking  in  my  language  !  What  you  have  to 
say  is  of  such  importance  to  me,  that  I  wish  to  hear  it  in  your  own 
most  peculiar  style  ;  and  then  what  parts  of  it  I  cannot  quite  appro- 
priate, I  will  endeavor  to  translate." 

"  I  may  continue,"  he  replied,  "in  my  own  most  peculiar  way, 
without  any  alteration  of  my  tone.  Man's  highest  merit  always  is, 
as  much  as  possible  to  rule  external  circumstances,  and  as  little  as 
possible  to  let  himself  be  ruled  by  them.  Life  lies  before  us,  as  a 
liuge  quarry  lies  before  the  architect  ;  he  deserves  not  the  name  of 
architect,  except  when,  out  of  this  fortuitous  mass,  he  can  combine, 
with  the  greatest  economy,  and  fitness,  and  durability,  some  form, 
the  pattern  of  which  originated  in  his  spirit.  All  things  without  us, 
nay,  I  may  add,  all  things  on  us,  are  mere  elements  ;  but  deep  within 
us  lies  the  creative  force,  which  out  of  these  can  produce  what  they 
were  meant  to  be  ;  and  which  leaves  us  neither  sleep  nor  rest,  till  in 
one  way  or  another,  without  us  or  on  us,  that  same  have  been  pro- 
duced. You,  my  dear  niece,  have,  it  maybe,  chosen  the  better  part  : 
you  have  striven  to  bring  your  moral  being,  your  earnest  lovely  nature 
iuto  accordance  with  itself  and  with  the  Highest  :  but  neither  ought 
we  to  be  blamed,  when  we  strive  to  get  acquainted  with  the  sentient 
man  in  all  his  comprehensiveness,  and  to  bring  about  an  active  har- 
mony among  his  powers." 

By  such  discoursing,  we  in  time  grew  more  familiar  ;  and  I  begged 
of  him  to  speak  with  me  as  witli  himself,  omitting  every  sort  of  con- 
descension. "Do  not  think,"  replied  my  uncle,  "that  I  flatter  you 
when  I  commend  your  mode  of  thinking  and  acting.  I  reverence  the 
individual  who  understands  distinctly  what  it  is  he  wishes  ;  who  un- 
weariedly  advances,  who  knows  the  means  conducive  to  his  object, 


r>^\jj\.     V  ±. 


and  can  seize  and  use  them.  How  far  his  object  may  be  great  or  little, 
may  merit  praise  or  censure,  is  the  next  consideration  with  me.  Be- 
lieve me,  love,  most  part  of  all  the  misery  and  mischief,  or  all  that  is 
denominated  evil  in  the  world,  arises  from  the  fact  that  men  are  too 
remiss  to  get  a  proper  knowledge  of  their  aims,  and  when  they  do 
know  them,  to  work  intensely  in  attaining  them.  They  seem  to  me 
like  people  who  have  taken  up  a  notion,  that  they  must  and  will  erect 
a  tower,  and  who  yet  expend  on  the  foundation  not  more  stones  and 
labor  than  would  be  sufficient  for  a  hut.  If  you,  my  friend,  whose 
highest  want  is  to  perfect  and  unfold  your  moral  nature,  had,  instead 
of  those  bold  and  noble  sacrifices,  merely  trimmed  between  your 
duties  to  yourself  and  to  your  family,  your  bridegroom,  or  perhaps 
your  husband,  you  must  have  lived  in  constant  contradiction  v/ith 
your  feelings,  and  never  could  have  had  a  peaceful  moment." 

"  You  employ  the  word  sacrifice,"  I  answered  here,  "and  I  have 
often  thought  that  to  a  higher  purpose,  as  to  a  divinity,  we  offer  up,  by 
way  of  sacrifice,  a  thing  of  smaller  value  ;  feeling  like  persons  who 
should  willingly  and  gladly  bring  a  favorite  lamb  to  the  altar  for  the 
health  of  a  beloved  father." 

"  Whatever  it  may  be,"  said  he,  "  reason  or  feeling,  that  commands 
us  to  give  up  the  one  thing  for  the  other,  to  choose  the  one  before  the 
other,  decision  and  perseverance  are,  in  my  opinion,  the  noblest  quali- 
ties of  man.  You  cannot  have  the  ware  and  the  money  both  at  once  ; 
and  lie  who  always  hankers  for  the  ware  without  having  heart  to  give 
the  money  for  it,  is  no  better  off  than  he  who  repents  him  of  the  pur- 
chase when  the  ware  is  in  his  hands.  But  I  am  far  from  blaming 
men  on  this  account  ;  it  is  not  they  that  are  to  blame  ;  it  is  the  diffi- 
cult, entangled  situation  they  are  in  ;  they  know  not  how  to  guide 
themselves  in  its  perplexities.  Thus,  for  instance,  you  will  on  the 
average  find  fewer  bad  economists  in  the  country  than  in  towns,  and 
fewer  again  in  small  towns  than  in  great ;  and  why  ?  Man  is  intended 
for  a  limited  condition  ;  objects  that  are  simple,  near,  determinate,  he 
comprehends,  and  he  becomes  accustomed  to  employ  such  means  as 
are  at  hand  :  but  on  entering  a  wider  field,  he  now  knows  neither 
what  he  would  nor  what  he  should  ;  and  it  amounts  to  quite  the 
same,  whether  his  attention  is  distracted  by  the  multitude  of  objects, 
or  is  overpowered  by  their  magnitude  and  dignity.  It  is  always  a 
misfortune  for  him,  when  he  is  induced  to  struggle  after  anything, 
with  which  he  cannot  connect  himself  by  some  regular  exertion  of  his 
powers. 

"  Certainly,"  pursued  he,  "  without  earnestness  there  is  nothing  to 
be  done  in  life  ;  yet  among  the  people  whom  we  name  cultivated  men, 
little  earnestness  is  to  be  found  ;  in  labors  and  employments,  in  arts, 
nay,  even  in  recreations,  they  proceed,  if  I  may  say  so,  with  a  sort  of 
self-defense ;  they  live,  as  they  read  a  heap  of  newspapers,  only  to 
have  done  with  it  ;  they  remind  one  of  that  young  Englishman  at 
Borne,  who  said,  with  a  contented  air,  one  evening  in  some  company, 


300  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

that  to-day  he  had  dispatched  six  churches  and  two  galleries.  They 
wish  to  knovv  and  learn  a  multitude  of  things,  and  precisely  those 
they  have  the  least  concern  with  ;  and  they  never  see  that  hunger  is 
not  stilled  by  snapping  at  the  air.  When  I  become  acquainted  with  a 
man,  my  first  inquiry  is  :  With  what  does  he  employ  himself,  and 
how,  and  with  what  degree  of  perseverance?  The  answer  regulates 
the  interest  I  shall  take  in  him  for  life." 

"  My  dear  uncle,"  I  replied,  "you  are  perhaps  too  rigorous;  you 
perhaps  withdraw  your  helping  hand  from  here  and  there  a  worthy 
man,  to  whom  you  might  be  useful." 

"  Can  it  be  imputed  as  a  fault,"  said  he,  "  to  one  who  has  so  long 
and  vainly  labored  on  them  and  about  them  ?  How  much  we  have  to 
suffer,  in  our  youth,  from  men  wlio  think  they  are  inviting  us  to  a 
delightful  pleasure  party,  when  they  undertake  to  introduce  us  to  the 
Danaides  or  Sisyphus  !  Heaven  be  praised  !  I  have  rid  myself  of 
these  people  ;  if  one  of  them  unfortunately  comes  within  my  sphere, 
I  forthwitli,  in  the  politest  manner,  compliment  him  out  again.  It  is 
from  such  persons  that  you  hear  the  bitterest  complaints  about  the 
miserable  course  of  things,  the  aridity  of  science,  the  levity  of  artists, 
the  emptiness  of  poets,  and  much  more  of  that  sort.  They  do  not 
recollect  that  they,  and  the  many  like  them,  are  the  very  persons  who 
would  never  read  a  book  which  had  been  written  just  as  they  require 
it ;  that  true  poetry  is  alien  to  them  ;  that  even  an  excellent  work  of 
of  art  can  never  gain  their  approbation,  except  by  means  of  preju- 
dice. But  let  us  now  break  off,  for  this  is  not  the  time  to  rail  or  to 
complain." 

He  directed  my  attention  to  the  different  pictures  hanging  on  the 
wall  ;  my  eye  dwelt  on  those  whose  look  was  beautiful  or  subject 
striking.  This  he  permitted  for  a  while  ;  at  last  he  said  :.  "  Bestow 
a  little  notice  on  the  spirit  manifested  in  these  other  works.  Good 
minds  delight  to  trace  the  finger  of  the  Diety  in  nature  :  why  not  like- 
wise pay  some  small  regard  to  the  hand  of  his  imitator  ?  "  He  then 
led  my  observation  to  some  unobtrusive  figures  ;  endeavoring  to  make 
me  understand  that  it  was  the  history  of  art  alone  whicli  could  give 
us  an  idea  of  the  worth  and  dignity  of  any  work  of  art  ;  that  we 
should  know  the  weary  steps  of  mere  handicraft  and  mechanism  over 
which  the  man  of  talents  lias  struggled  in  the  course  of  centuries, 
before  we  can  conceive  how  it  is  possible  for  the  man  of  genius  to 
move  with  airy  freedom,  on  the  pinnacle  whose  very  aspect  makes  us 
giddy. 

With  this  view  he  had  formed  a  beautiful  series  of  works  ;  and 
whilst  he  explained  it,  I  could  not  lielp  conceiving  that  I  saw  before 
me  a  similitude  of  moral  culture.  When  I  expressed  my  thought  to 
him,  he  answered  :  ' '  You  are  altogether  right ;  and  we  see  from  this, 
that  those  do  not  act  well,  who,  in  a  solitary,  exclusive  manner, 
follow  moral  cultivation  by  itself.  On  tlie  contrary,  it  will  be  found 
that  he  whose  spirit  strives  for  a  development  of  that  kind,  has  like- 


BOOK  ri.  301 

"wise  every  reason,  at  tlie  same  time,  to  improve  his  finer  sentient 
powers  ;  that  so  he  may  not  run  the  risk  of  sinking  from  his  moral 
height,  by  giving  way  to  the  enticements  of  a  lawless  fancy,  and 
degrading  his  moral  nature  by  allowing  it  to  take  delight  in  tasteless 
baubles,  if  not  in  something  worse." 

1  did  not  suspect  him  of  leveling  at  me  ;  but  1  felt  myself  struck, 
when  1  reflected  how  many  insipidities  there  might  be  in  the  songs 
tl^t  used  to  edify  me  ;  and  how  little  favor  the  figures,  which  had 
joined  themselves  to  my  religious  ideas,  would  have  found  in  the 
eyes  of  my  uncle. 

Philo,  in  the  meantime,  had  frequently  been  busied  in  the  library. 
He  now  took  me  along  with  him.  We  admired  the  selection,  as  well 
as  the  multitude  of  books.  They  had  been  collected  on  my  uncle's 
general  principle  ;  there  were  none  to  be  found  among  them  but 
such  as  either  lead  to  correct  knowledge  or  teach  right  arrangement  ; 
such  as  either  give  us  fit  materials  or  further  the  concordance  of  our 
spirit. 

In  the  course  of  my  life  I  had  read  very  largely  :  in  certain 
branches,  there  was  almost  no  work  unknown  to  me  :  the  more 
pleasant  was  it  here  to  speak  about  the  general  survey  of  the  whole  ; 
to  mark  deficiencies,  and  not,  as  elsewhere,  see  nothing  but  a  ham- 
pered confusion  or  a  boundless  expansion. 

Here,  too,  we  became  acquainted  with  a  very  interesting,  quiet 
man.  He  was  a  physician  and  a  naturalist  ;  he  seemed  rather  one  of 
the  penates  than  of  the  inmates.  He  showed  us  the  museum,  which, 
like  the  library,  was  fixed  in  glass  cases  to  the  walls  of  the  cham- 
bers ;  adorning  and  ennobling  the  space,  which  it  did  not  crowd.  On 
this  occasion  1  recalled  with  joy  the  days  of  my  youth,  and  showed 
my  father  many  of  the  things  he  had  been  wont  to  lay  upon  the  sick 
bed  of  his  little  child,  just  opening  its  little  eyes  to  look  into  the 
world  then.  At  the  same  time,  the  physician,  in  our  present  and 
following  conversations,  did  not  scruple  to  avow  how  near  he  ap- 
proximated to  me  in  respect  to  my  religious  sentiments  ;  he  warmly 
praised  my  uncle  for  his  tolerance,  and  his  esteem  of  all  that  testi- 
fied or  forwarded  the  worth  and  unity  of  human  nature  ;  admitting 
also,  that  he  called  for  a  similar  return  from  others,  and  would  shun 
and  condemn  nothing  else  so  heartily  as  individual  pretension  and 
narrow  exclusiveness. 

Since  the  nuptials  of  my  sister,  joy  had  sparkled  in  the  eyes  of  our 
uncle  :  he  often  spoke  with  me  of  what  he  meant  to  do  for  her  and 
for  her  children.  He  had  several  fine  estates  ;  he  managed  them 
himself,  and  hoped  to  leave  them  in  the  best  condition  to  his 
nephews.  Regarding  the  small  estate  where  we  at  present  were,  he 
appeared  to  entertain  peculiar  thoughts.  "  I  will  leave  it  to  none," 
said  he,  "but  to  a  person  who  can  understand  and  value  and  enjoy 
what  it  contains,  and  who  feels  how  loudly  every  man  of  wealth  and 
rank,  especially  in  (Germany,  is  called  on  to  exhibit  something  like  a 
model  to  others. " 


302  MEISTER  'S  A  PPR  ENTICEBitTP. 

Most  of  his  guests  were  now  gone  ;  we  too  were  making  ready  for 
departure,  thinking  we  had  seen  the  final  scene  of  this  solemnity, 
when  his  attention  in  affording  us  some  dignified  enjoyment  pro- 
duced a  new  surprise.  We  had  mentioned  to  liim  the  delight  which 
the  chorus  of  voices,  suddenly  commencing  without  accompaniment 
of  any  instrument,  had  given  us,  at  my  sister's  marriage.  We 
hinted,  at  the  same  time,  liow  pleasant  it  would  be  w^ere  such  a 
thing  repeated  ;  but  he  seemed  to  pay  no  heed  to  us.  The  livelier 
was  our  surprise,  when  he  said  one  evening  :  "  The  music  of  the 
dance  has  died  away  ;  our  transitory,  youthful  friends  have  left  us  ; 
the  happy  pair  themselves  have  a  more  serious  look.than  they  had 
some  days  ago  ;  to  part  at  such  a  time,  when  perhaps  we  shall  never 
meet  again,  certainly  never  without  changes,  exalts  us  to  a  solemn 
mood,  which  I  know  not  how  to  entertain  more  nobly  than  by  the 
music  you  were  lately  signifying  a  desire  to  have  repeated." 

The  chorus,  which  had  in  the  meanwhile  gathered  strength,  and 
by  secret  practice  more  expertness,  was  accordingly  made  sing  to  us 
a  series  of  four  and  of  eight-voiced  melodies,  which,  if  I  may  say  so, 
gave  a  real  foretaste  of  bliss.  Till  then  I  had  only  known  the  pious 
mode  of  singing,  as  good  souls  practice  it,  frequently  with  hoarse 
pipes,  imagining,  like  wild  birds,  that  they  are  praising  (iod,  while 
they  procure  a  pleasant  feeling  to  themselves.  Or  perhaps  I  had  lis- 
tened to  the  vain  music  of  concerts,  in  which  you  are  at  best  invited 
to  admire  the  talent  of  the  singer,  and  very  seldom  have  even  a 
transient  enjoyment.  Now,  however,  I  was  listening  to  music, 
which,  as  it  originated  in  the  deepest  feeling  of  the  most  accom- 
plished human  beings,  was,  by  suitable  and  practiced  organs  in  har- 
monious unity,  made  again  to  address  the  deepest  and  best  feelings 
of  man,  and  to  impress  him  at  that  moment  with  a  lively  sense  of 
his  likeness  to  the  Deity.  They  were  all  devotional  songs  in  the 
Latin  language  :  they  sat  like  jewels  in  the  golden  ring  of  a  polished 
intellectual  conversation  ;  and  without  pretending  to  edify,  they  ele- 
vated me  and  made  me  happy  in  the  most  spiritual  manner. 

At  our  departure,  he  presented  all  of  us  with  handsome  gifts.  To 
me  he  gave  the  cross  of  my  order,  more  beautifully  and  artfully 
worked  and  enameled  than  I  had  ever  seen  it  before.  It  was  hung 
upon  a  large  brilliant,  by  which  also  it  was  fastened  to  the  chain  : 
this  he  gave  me,  he  said,  "as  the  noblest  stone  in  the  cabinet  of  a 
collector." 

My  sister  with  her  husband  went  to  their  estates  ;  the  rest  of  us  to 
our  abodes  ;  appearing  to  ourselves,  so  far  as  outward  circumstances 
were  concerned,  to  have  returned  to  quite  an  e very-day  existence.  We 
had  been,  as  it  were,  dropped  from  a  palace" of  the  fairies  down  upon 
the  common  earth  ;  and  were  again  obliged  to  help  ourselves  as  we 
best  could. 

The  singular  experiences,  which  this  new  circle  had  afforded,  left  a 
fine  impression  upon  my  mind.     This,  however,  did  not  long  continue 


BOOK  VI.  303 

in  its  first  vivacity  ;  though  my  uncle  tried  to  nourish  and  renew  it, 
by  sending  me  certain  of  his  best  and  most  pleasing  works  of  art ; 
changing  them  from  time  to  time,  with  others  which  I  had  not  seen. 

I  had  been  so  much  accustomed  to  be  busied  with  myself,  in  regu- 
lating the  concerns  of  my  heart  and  temper,  and  conversing  on  these 
matters  with  persons  of  a  like  mind,  that  I  could  not  long  study  any 
work  of  art  attentively  without  being  turned  by  it  back  upon  myself. 
I  was  used  to  look  at  a  picture  or  copperplate  merely  as  at  the  letters 
of  a  book.  Fine  printing  pleases  well  :  but  who  would  read  a  book 
for  the  beauty  of  the  printing?  In  like  manner  I  required  of  each 
pictorial  form  that  it  .should  tell  me  something,  should  instruct, 
affect,  improve  me  :  and  after  all  my  uncle's  letters  to  expound  his 
works  of  art,  say  what  he  would,  I  continued  in  my  former  humor. 

Yet  not  only  my  peculiar  disposition,  but  external  incidents  and 
changes  in  our  family  still  farther  drew  me  back  from  contemplations 
of  that  nature,  nay,  for  some  time  even  from  myself.  I  had  to  suffer 
and  to  do,  more  than  my  slender  strength  seemed  fit  for. 

My  maiden  sister  had  till  now  been  as  a  right  arm  to  me.  Healthy, 
strong,  unspeakably  good-natured,  she  had  managed  all  the  h6use- 
keeping,  I  myself  being  busied  with  the  personal  nursing  of  our  aged 
father.  She  was  seized  with  a  catarrh,  which  changed  to  a  disorder 
of  the  lungs  ;  in  three  weeks  she  was  lying  in  her  coffin.  Her  death 
inflicted  wounds  on  me,  the  scars  of  which  I  am  not  yet  willing  to 
examine. 

I  was  lying  sick  before  they  buried  her:  the  old  ailment  in  my 
breast  appeared  to  be  awakening  ;  I  coughed  with  violence,  and  was 
so  hoarse  I  could  not  speak  beyond  a  whisper. 

My  married  sister,  out  of  fright  and  grief,  was  brought  to  bed  be- 
fore her  time.  Our  old  father  thought  he  was  about  to  lose  at  once 
his  children  and  the  hope  of  their  posterity  :  his  natural  tears  in- 
creased my  sorrow  ;  I  prayed  to  God  that  he  would  give  me  back  a 
sufferable  state  of  health.  I  asked  him  but  to  spare  my  life  till  my 
father  should  die.  I  recovered  ;  I  was  what  I  reckoned  well ;  being 
able  to  discharge  my  duties,  though  with  pain. 

Mj'  sister  was  again  with  child.  Many  cares,  which  in  such  cases 
are  committed  to  the  mother,  in  the  present  instance  fell  to  me.  She 
was  not  altogether  happy  with  her  husband  ;  this  was  to  be  hidden 
from  our  father  :  I  was  often  made  judge  of  their  disputes  ;  in  which 
I  could  decide  with  the  greatest  safety,  as  my  brother  trusted  in  me, 
and  the  two  were  really  worthy  persons,  only  each  of  them,  instead 
of  humoring,  endeavored  to  convince  the  other  ;  and  out  of  eagerne.ss 
to  live  in  constant  harmony,  never  could  agree.  I  now  learned  to 
mingle  seriously  in  worldly  matters,  and  to  practice  what  of  old  I  had 
but  sung. 

My  sister  bore  a  son :  the  frailty  of  my  father  did  not  hinder  him  from 
traveling  to  her.  The  sight  of  the  child  exceedingly  enlivened  and 
cheered  him;  at  the  christening,  contrary  to  his  custom,  he  seemed 


304  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

as  if  inspired  ;  nay,  I  miglit  say,  like  a  genius  Avitli  two  faces.  With 
the  one,  he  looked  joyfully  forward  to  those  regions  which  he  soon 
hoped  to  enter  ;  with  the  other,  to  the  new,  hopeful,  earthly  life 
which  had  arisen  in  the  boy  descended  from  him.  On  our  journey 
home,  he  never  wearied  talking  to  me  of  the  child,  its  form,  its  health, 
and  his  wish  that  the  gifts  of  this  new  denizen  of  earth  might  be 
rightly  cultivated.  His  reflections  on  the  subject  lasted  when  we  had 
arrived  at  home  :  it  was  not  till  some  days  afterwards,  that  I  observed 
a  kind  of  fever  in  him  ;  which  displayed  itself,  without  shivering,  in 
a  sort  of  languid  heat  commencing  after  dinner.  He  did  not  yield, 
however  ;  he  went  out  as  usual  in  the  mornings,  faithfully  attending 
to  the  duties  of  his  office,  till  at  last  continuous  serious  symptoms 
kept  him  within  doors. 

I  never  shall  forget  with  what  distinctness,  clearness  and  repose  of 
mind,  he  settled  in  the  greatest  order  the  concerns  of  his  house,  nay, 
th-e  arrangements  of  his  funeral,  as  he  would  have  done  a  business 
of  some  other  person. 

^Vith  a  cheerfulness,  which  he  never  used  to  show,  and  which  now 
mounted  to  a  li^■e]y  joy,  he  said  to  me  :  "  Where  is  the  fear  of  death 
which  1  once  felt?  Shall  I  shrink  at  departing?  I  have  a  gracious 
(rod  ;  the  grave  awakens  no  terror  in  me  ;  I  have  an  eternal  life." 

To  recall  the  circumstances  of  his  death,  which  shortly  followed, 
forms  one  of  the  most  pleasing  entertainments  of  my  solitude  :  ihe 
visible  workings  of  a  higher  power  in  that  solemn  time,  no  one  shall 
ever  argue  from  me. 

The  death  of  my  beloved  father  altogether  changed  my  mode  of 
life.  From  the  strictest  obedience,  the  -narrowest  confinement,  I 
passed  at  once  into  the  greatest  freedom  ;  I  enjoyed  it  like  a  sort  of 
food  from  which  one  has  long  abstained.  Formerly  I  very  seldom 
spent  two  hours  from  home  ;  now  I  very  seldom  lived  a  day  there. 
My  friends,  whom  I  had  been  allowed  to  visit  only  by  hurried 
snatches,  wished  now  to  have  my  companj'  without  interruption,  as 
I  did  to  have  theirs.  I  was  often  asked  to  dinner  ;  at  walks  and 
pleasure  jaunts  I  never  failed.  But  when  once  the  circle  had  been 
fairly  run,  I  saw  that  the  invaluable  happiness  of  liberty  consisted, 
not  in  doing  what  one  pleases  and  what  circumstances  nuiy  invite  to, 
but  in  being  able,  without  hindrance  or  restraint,  to  do  in  the  direct 
way  what  one  regards  as  right  and  proper  ;  and,  in  this  instance,  I 
was  old  enough  to  reach  a  valuable  trutli,  without  smarting  for  my 
ignorance. 

One  j)leasure  T  could  not  deny  myself  :  it  was,  as  soon  as  might  be, 
to  renew  and  strengthen  my  connection  with  the  Herrnhut  brethren. 
I  hastened,  accoi'dingly,  to  visit  one  of  their- establishments  at  no 
great  distance  ;  but  here  I  by  no  means  found  what  1  had  been  an- 
ticipating. I  was  frank  enough  to  signify  my  disappointment,  which 
they  tried  to  soften  by  alleging  that  the  present  settlement  was 
nothing  to  a  full  and  fitly  organized  community.     This  I  did  not 


BOOK  VI.  305 

take  upon  me  to  deny  ;  yet  in  my  thought,  the  genuine  spirit  of  tho 
matter  might  have  displayed  itself  in  a  small  body  as  well  as  in  a 
great  one. 

One  of  their  bishops  wlio  was  present,  a  personal  disciple  of  the 
count,  took  considerable  pains  ■with  me.  He  spoke  English  per 
fectly,  and  as  I  too  understood  a  little  of  it,  he  reckoned  this  a  token 
that  we  both  belonged  to  one  class.  I,  however,  reckoned  nothing 
of  the  kind  ;  his  conversation  did  not  in  the  least  satisfy  me.  He 
had  been  a  cutler  ;  was  a  native  of  Moravia  :  his  mode  of  thought 

still  savored  of  the  artisan.      With  Herr  von  L ,  who  had  been  a 

major  in  the  French  service,  I  got  upon  a  better  footing  :  yet  I  could 
never  bring  myself  to  the  submissiveness  he  showed  to  his  supe- 
riors ;  nay  I  felt  as  if  you  had  given  me  a  box  on  the  ear,  when  I 
saw  the  major's  wife,  and  other  women  more  or  less  like  ladies,  take 
the  bishop's  hand  and  kiss  it.  Meanwhile,  a  journey  into  Holland 
was  proposed  ;  which,  however,  doubtless  for  my  good,  did  not  take 
place. 

About  this  time,  my  sister  was  delivered  of  a  daughter  ;  and  now 
it  was  the  turn  of  us  women  to  exult,  and  consider  how  the  little 
creature  should  be  bred  like  one  of  us.  The  husband,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  not  so  satisfied,  when  in  the  following  year  another 
daughter  saw  the  light ;  with  his  large  estates,  he  wanted  to  have 
boys  about  him,  Avho  in  future  might  assist  him  in  his  manage- 
ment. 

My  health  was  feeble  :  I  kept  myself  in  peace,  and,  by  a  quiet 
mode  of  life,  in  tolerable  equilibrium.  I  was  not  afraid  of  death  ; 
nay,  I  wished  to  die  ;  yet  I  secretly  perceived  that  God  was  granting 
time  for  me  to  prove  my  soul,  and  to  advance  still  nearer  to  himself. 
In  my  many  sleepless  nights,  especially,  I  have  at  times  felt  some- 
thing which  I  cannot  undertake  to  describe. 

It  was  as  if  my  soul  were  thinking  separately  from  the  body  ;  she 
looked  upon  the  body  as  a  foreign  substance,  as  -we  look  upon  a 
garment  She  pictured  with  extreme  vivacity  events  and  times  long 
past,  and  felt  by  means  of  this,  events  that  were  to  follow.  Those 
times  are  all  gone  by  ;  what  follows  likewise  will  go  by  ;  the  body- 
too  will  fall  to  pieces  like  a  vesture  ;  but  I,  the  well-known  I,  I 
am. 

Tlie  thought  is  great,  exalted  and  consoling  ;  yet  an  excellent 
friend,  with  whom  I  every  day  became  more  intimate,  instructed  me 
to  dwell  on  it  as  little  as  I  could.  Tliis  was  the  physician  whom  I 
met  in  my  uncle's  house,  and  who  had  since  accurately  informed 
himself  about  the  temper  of  my  body  and  my  spirit.  He  showed  me 
how  much  these  feelings,  when  we  cherish  them  within  us  inde- 
pendently of  outward  objects,  tend  as  it  were  to  excavate  us,  and  to 
undermine  the  whole  foundntion  of  our  being.  "  To  be  active,"  he 
would  say,  "  is  the  primary  vocation  of  man  ;  all  the  intervals  in 
which  he  is  obliged  to  rest,  he  sliould  employ  in  gaining  clearer 


306  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

knowledge  of  external  things,  for  tliis  will  in  its  turn  facilitate  ac- 
tivity." 

This  friend  was  acquainted  with  my  custom  of  looking  on  my  body 
as  an  outward  object ;  he  knew  also  that  I  pretty  well  understood  my 
constitution,  my  disorder,  and  the  medicines  of  use  for  it  ;  nay,  that 
by  continual  sufferings  of  my  own  or  other  people's,  I  had  really 
grown  a  kind  of  half  doctor  ;  he  now  carried  forward  my  attention 
from  the  human  body,  and  the  drugs  which  act  upon  it,  to  the  kin- 
dred objects  of  creation  ;  he  led  me  up  and  down  as  in  the  paradise 
of  the  first  man  ;  only,  if  I  may  continue  my  comparison,  allowing 
me  to  trace,  in  dim  remoteness,  the  Creator  walking  in  the  garden  in 
the  cool  of  the  evening. 

How  gladly  did  I  now  see  God  in  nature,  when  I  bore  him  with 
such  certainty  within  my  heart  !  How  interesting  to  me  was  his 
handiwork;  how  thankful  did  I  feel  that  he  had  pleased  to  quicken 
me  with  the  breath  of  his  mouth  ! 

We  again  had  hopes  that  my  sister  would  present  us  with  a  boy  ; 
her  husband  waited  anxiously  for  that  event,  but  did  not  live  to  see 
it.  He  died  in  consequence  of  an  unlucky  fall  from  horseback  ;  and 
my  sister  followed  him,  soon  after  she  had  brought  into  the  world  a 
lovely  boy.  The  four  orphans  they  had  left  I  could  not  look  at  but 
with  sadness.  So  many  healthy  people  had  been  called  away  before 
poor  sickly  me  ;  might  I  not  also  have  blights  to  witness  among  these 
fair  and  hopeful  blossoms '?  I  knew  the  world  sufficiently  to  under- 
stand what  dangers  threaten  the  precarious  breeding  of  a  child,  espe- 
cially a  child  of  quality  ;  and  it  seemed  as  if,  since  the  period  of  my 
youth,  these  dangers  had  increased.  I  felt  that,  weakly  as  I  was,  I 
could  not  be  much,  perhaps  of  any  service  to  the  little  ones  ;  and  I 
rejoiced  the  more  on  finding  that  my  uncle,  as  indeed  might  have 
been  looked  for,  had  determined  to  devote  his  whole  attention  to  the 
education  of  these  amiable  creatures.  And  this  they  doubtless  mer- 
ited in  every  sense  ;  they  were  handsome,  and  with  great  diversities, 
all  promised  to  be  well- conditioned,  reasonable  persons. 

Since  my  worthy  doctor  had  suggested  it,  I  loved  to  trace  out  family 
likenesses  among  our  relatives  and  children.  My  father  had  care- 
fully preserved  the  portraits  of  his  ancestors,  and  got  his  own  and 
those  of  his  descendants  drawn  by  tolerable  masters  ;  nor  had  my 
mother  and  her  people  been  forgotten.  We  accurately  knew  the 
characters  of  all  the  family  ;  and  as  we  had  frequently  compared 
them  with  each  other,  we  now  endeavored  to  discover  in  the  children 
the  same  peculiarities  outward  and  inward.  My  sister's  elder  son, 
"we  thought,  resembled  his  paternal  grandfather,  of  whom  there  was 
a  fine  youthful  picture  in  my  uncle's  collection  ;  he  had  been  a  brave 
soldier  ;  and  in  this  point  too  the  boy  took  after  him,  liking  arms 
above  all  things,  and  busying  himself  with  them  whenever  he  paid 
me  a  visit.  For  my  father  had  left  a  very  pretty  armory  ;  and  the 
boy  got  no  re.st  till  I  had  given  him  a  pair  of  pistols  and  a  fowling- 


BOOK  VL  307 

piece,  and  he  had  learned  the  prcrper  way  of  using  them.  At  tlie 
same  time,  in  his  conduct  or  bearing  there  was  nothing  like  rude- 
ness ;  far  from  that,  lie  was  always  meek  and  sensible. 

The  elder  daughter  had  attracted  my  especial  love  ;  of  which  per- 
haps the  reason  was  that  she  resembled  me,  and  of  all  the  four  seemed 
to  like  me  best.  But  I  may  well  admit  that  the  more  closely  I  ob- 
served her  as  she  grew,  the  more  she  shamed  me  ;  I  could  not  look 
on  her  without  a  sentiment  of  admiration,  nay,  I  may  almost  say,  of 
reverence.  You  would  scarcely  have  seen  a  nobler  form,  a  more 
peaceful  spirit,  an  activity  so  equable  and  universal.  No  moment  of 
her  life  was  she  unoccupied  ;  and  every  occupation  in  her  hands  be- 
came dignified.  All  seejned  indifferent  to  her,  so  that  she  could  but 
accomplisli  what  was  proper  in  the  place  and  time  ;  and  in  the  same 
manner,  she  could  patiently  continue  unemployed  when  there  was 
nothing  to  be  done.  This  activity  without  need  of  occupation,  I  have 
never  elsewhere  met  with.  In  particular,  her  conduct  to  the  suffer- 
ing and  destitute  was,  from  her  earliest  youth,  inimitable.  For  my 
part,  I  freely  confess  I  never  had  the  gift  to  make  a  business  of  be- 
neficence ;  I  was  not  niggardly  to  the  poor  ;  nay,  I  often  gave  too 
largely  for  my  means  ;  yet  this  was  little  more  tlian  buying  myself 
off ;  and  a  person  needed  to  be  made  for  me,  if  I  was  to  bestow  atten- 
tion on  liim.  Directly  the  reverse  was  the  conduct  of  my  niece.  I 
never  saw  her  give  a  poor  man  money  ;  whatever  she  obtained  from 
me  for  this  purpose,  she  failed  not  in  the  first  place  to  change  for 
some  necessary  article.  Never  did  she  seem  more  lovely  in  my  eyes 
than  when  rummaging  my  clothes-presses  ;  she  was  always  sure  to 
light  on  something  which  I  did  not  wear  and  did  not  need  ;  to  sew 
these  old  cast  articles  together,  and  put  them  on  some  ragged  cliild, 
she  thought  her  highest  happiness. 

Her  sister's  turn  of  mind  appeared  already  different :  she  had  miicli 
of  her  mother  ;  she  promised  to  become  very  elegant  and  beautiful, 
and  she  now  bids  fair  to  keep  her  promise.  She  is  greatly  taken  up 
with  her  exterior  ;  from  her  earliest  years  she  could  decorate  and 
carry  herself  in  a  way  that  struck  you.  I  still  remember  with  what 
ecstasy,  when  quite  a  little  creature,  she  saw  lierself  in  a  mirror, 
decked  in  certain  precious  pearls,  once  my  mother's,  which  she  had 
by  chance  discovered,  and  made  me  try  upon  her. 

Reflecting  on  these  diverse  inclinations,  it  was  pleasant  for  me  to 
consider  how  my  property  would,  after  my  decease,  be  shared  among 
them,  and  again  called  into  use.  I  saw  the  fowling-pieces  of  my 
father  once  more  traveling  round  the  fields  on  my  nephew's  shoulder, 
and  birds  once  more  falling  from  his  hunting-pouch  :  I  saw  my  whole 
wardrobe  issuing  from  the  church,  at  Easter  confirmation,  on  the 
persons  of  tidy  little  girls  ;  while  the  best  pieces  of  it  were  employed 
to  decorate  some  virtuous  burgher  maiden  on  her  marriage  day.  In 
furnishing  such  children  and  poor  little  girls,  Natalia  had  a  singular 
delight  :  though,  as  I  must  here  remark,  she  showed  not  the  smallest 


308  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTIGESSlP. 

love,  or  if  I  may  say  it,  smallest  need,  or  a  dependence  upon  any  visi- 
ble or  invisible  being,  such  as  I  had  in  my  youth  so  strongly  mani- 
fested. 

When  I  also  thought  that  the  younger  sister,  on  that  same  day, 
would  wear  my  jewels  and  pearls  at  court,  I  could  see  with  peace  my 
possessions,  like  my  body,  given  back  to  the  elements. 

The  children  waxed  apace  ;  to  my  comfort,  they  are  healthy,  hand- 
some, clever  creatures.  That  my  uncle  keeps  them  from  me,  I 
endure  without  repining  :  when  staying  in  the  neighborhood,  or  even 
in  town,  they  seldom  see  me. 

A  singular  personage,  regarded  as  a  French  clergyman,  though  no 
one  rightly  knows  his  history,  has  been  intrusted  with  the  oversight 
of  all  these  children.  He  has  them  taught  in  various  places  ;  they 
are  put  to  board  now  here,  now  there. 

At  first  I  could  perceive  no  plan  whatever  in  this  mode  of  education  ; 
till  at  last  our  doctor  told  me  the  abbe  had  convinced  my  uncle,  that 
in  order  to  accomplish  anything  by  education,  we  must  first  become 
acquainted  with  the  pupil's  tendencies  and  wishes  ;  that  these  once 
ascertained,  he  ought  to  be  transported  to  a  situation  where  he  may, 
as  speedily  as  possible,  content  the  former  and  attain  the  latter  ;  and 
so  if  he  have  been  mistaken,  may  still  in  time  perceive  his  error  ;  and 
at  last  having  found  what  suits  him,  may  hold  the  faster  by  it,  may 
the  more  diligently  fashion  himself  according  to  it.  I  wish  this 
strange  experiment  may  prosper  :  with  such  excellent  natures  it  is 
perhaps  possible. 

But  there  is  one  peculiarity  in  these  instructors,  which  I  never  shall 
approve  of  :  they  study  to  seclude  the  children  from  whatever  might 
awaken  them  to  an  acquaintance  with  themselves  and  with  the  invisi- 
ble, sole,  faithful  Friend.  I  often  take  it  ill  of  my  uncle  that,  on  this 
account,  he  considers  me  dangerous  for  the  little  ones.  Thus  in 
practice  there  is  no  man  tolerant !  Many  assure  us  that  they  willingly 
leave  each  to  take  his  own  way  ;  yet  all  endeavor  to  exclude  from 
action  every  one  that  does  not  think  as  they  do. 

This  removal  of  the  children  troubles  me  the  more,  the  more  I  am 
convinced  of  the  reality  of  my  belief.  How  can  it  fail  to  have  a 
heavenly  origin,  an  actual  object,  when  in  practice  it  is  so  effectual  ? 
Is  it  not  by  practice  alone  that  we  prove  our  own  existence?  Why 
then  may  we  not,  by  a  like  mode,  prove  to  ourselves  the  influence  of 
that  Power  who  gives  us  all  good  things  '? 

That  1  am  still  advancing,  never  retrograding  ;  that  my  conduct  is 
approximating  more  and  more  to  the  image  I  have  formed  of  perfec- 
tion ;  that  I  every  day  feel  more  facility  in  doing  what  I  reckon  proper, 
even  while  the  weakness  of  my  body  so  obstructs  me  ;  can  all  this 
be  accounted  for  upon  the  principles  of  human  nature,  whose  corrup- 
tion I  have  so  clearly  seen  into'?     For  me,  at  least,  it  cannot. 

I  scarcely  remember  a  commandment  ;  to  me  there  is  nothing  that 
assumes  the  aspect  of  law  ;  it  is  an  impluse  that  leads  me,  and  guides 


BOOK  VI.  m 

me  always  aright.  I  freely  follow  my  emotions,  and  know  as  little 
of  constraint  as  of  repentance.  God  be  praised  that  I  know  to  whoTn 
I  am  indebted  for  such  happiness,  and  that  I  cannot  think  of  it  with- 
out liumility  !  There  is  no  danger  I  should  ever  bt^come  proud  of 
ivhat  I  myself  can  do  or  can  forbear  to  do  ;  I  have  seen  too  well  what 
a  monster  might  be  formed  and  nursed  in  every  human  bosom,  did 
not  higher  influence  restrain  us. 


310  MEISTER'S  APPRENTiCESSlP. 


BOOK    VII 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  spring  had  commenced  in  all  its  brilFiancy  ;  a  storm,  that  had 
been  lowering  all  day,  went  fiercely  down  upon  the  hills;  the  rain 
drew  back  into  the  country  ;  the  sun  came  forth  in  all  its  splendor, 
and  upon  the  dark  vapor  rose  the  lordly  rainbow.  Wilhelm  was 
riding  towards  it :  the  sight  made  him  sad.  "  Ah  !  "  said  he  within 
himself,  "  do  the  fairest  hues  of  life  appear,  then,  only  on  a  ground 
of  black?  And  must  drops  fall,  if  we  are  to  be  charmed?  A  bright 
day  is  like  a  dim  one,  if  we  look  at  it  unnK^ved  ;  and  what  can  move 
us  but  some  silent  hope  that  the  inborn  inclination  of  our  soul  shall 
not  always  be  without  an  object  ?  The  recital  of  a  noble  action  moves 
us  ;  the  sight  of  everything  harmonious  moves  us  ;  we  feel  then  as  if 
we  were  not  altogether  in  a  foreign  land  ;  we  fancy  we  are  nearer  the 
home,  towards  which  our  best  and  inmost  wishes  impatiently  strive." 
•  Meanwhile  a  pedestrian  overtook  him,  and  walking  with  a  stout 
step  by  the  side  of  the  horse,  began  to  keep  him  company.  After  a 
few  common  words,  he  looked  at  the  rider  and  said  :  "If  I  am  not 
mistaken,  I  must  have  already  seen  you  somewhere." 

"  I  too  remember  you,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "  had  we  not  some  time  ago 
a  pleasant  sail  together?  "     "  Right  !  "  replied  the  other. 

Wilhelm  looked  at  him  more  narrowly  ;  then,  after  a  pause,  ob- 
served :  "  I  do  not  know  what  alteration  has  occurred  in  you;  last 
time  we  met,  I  took  you  for  a  Lutheran  clergyman,  you  now  seem 
rather  like  a  Catholic  one." 

"  To-day,  at  least,  you  are  not  wrong,"  replied  the  other,  taking  off 
his  hat  and  showing  him  the  tonsure.  "Where  is  your  company 
gone  ?     Did  you  stay  long  Avith  them  ?  " 

' '  Longer  than  was  good  :  on  looking  back  upon  the  period  which  I 
passed  in  their  society,  it  seems  as  if  I  looked  into  an  endless  void  ; 
nothing  of  it  has  remained  with  me." 

"Here  you  are  mistaken,"  said  the  stranger;  "everything  that 
happens  to  us  leaves  some  trace  behind  it,  everything  contributes  im- 
perceptibly to  form  us.  Yet  often  it  is  dangerous  to  take  a  strict 
account  of  that.  For  either  we  grow  proud  and  negligent,  or  down- 
cast and  dispirited  ;  and  both  are  equally  injurious  in  their  conse- 
quences. The  safe  plan  is,  always  simply  to  do  the  task  that  lies 
nearest  us  ;  and  this  in  the  present  case,"  added  he  with  a  smile,  "is 
to  hasten  to  our  quarters.  " 


BOOK  VIL  CHAPTER  I.  311 

Wilhelm  asked  how  far  Lotliario's  house  was  distant  ;  the  stranger 
answered  that  it  hiy  hehind  the  hill.  "  Perha])s  I  shall  meet  you 
there,"  continued  he  ;  "I  have  merely  a  small  affair  to  manage  in  the 
neighborhood.  Farewell  till  tlien  !  "  And  with  this,  he  struck  into 
a  steep  path,  that  seemed  to  lead  more  speedily  across  the  hill. 

"  Yes,  the  man  is  right  !  "  said  Wilhelm  to  himself  as  he  proceeded  ; 
"  we  should  think  of  what  is  nearest:  and  for  me  at  present  there 
is  nothing  nearer  than  the  mournful  errand  I  have  come  to  do.  I^et 
me  see  whether  I  can  still  repeat  the  speech,  which  is  to  put  the  cruel 
man  to  shame." 

He  then  began  reciting  to  himself  this  piece  of  oratory  ;  not  a  syl- 
lable was  wanting  ;  and  the  more  his  recollection  served  him,  the 
higher  grew  his  passion  and  his  courage.  Aurelia's  sorrows  and  her 
death  were  vividly  present  to  his  soul. 

"  Spirit  of  my  friend  !  "  exclaimed  he,  "hover  round  me  ;  and  if 
thou  canst,  give  some  sign  to  me  that  thou  art  softened,  art  ap- 
peased ! " 

Amid  such  words  and  meditations,  he  had  reached  the  summit  of 
the  hill  :  and  near  the  foot  of  its  declivity,  he  now  beheld  a  curious 
building,  which  he  at  once  took  to  be  Lothario's  dwelling.  An  old 
irregular  castle,  with  several  turrets  and  peaked  roofs,  appeared  to 
have  been  the  primitive  erection  ;  but  the  new  additions  to  it,  placed 
near  the  main  structure,  looked  still  more  irregular.  A  part  of  them 
stood  close  upon  the  main  edifice  ;  others,  at  some  distance,  were  com- 
bined with  it  by  galleries  and  covered  passages.  All  external  sym- 
metry, every  shade  of  architectural  beauty,  appeared  to  have  been 
sacrificed  to  the  convenience  of  the  interior.  No  trace  of  wall  or 
trench  was  to  be  seen  ;  none  of  avenues  or  artificial  gardens.  A  fruit 
and  potherb  garden  readied  to  the  very  buildings  ;  and  little  patches 
of  a  like  sort  showed  themselves  even  in  the  intermediate  spaces.  A 
cheerful  village  lay  at  no  great  distance  ;  the  fields  and  gardens 
everywhere  appeared  in  the  highest  state  of  cultivation. 

Sunk  in  his  own  impassioned  feelings,  Wilhelm  rode  along,  not 
thinking  much  of  what  he  saw  ;  he  put  up  his  horse  at  an  inn  ;  and 
not  without  emotion,  hastened  to  the  castle. 

An  old  serving-man  received  him  at  the  door  ;  and  signified,  with 
much  good  nature,  that  to-day  it  would  be  difficult  to  get  admission  to 
his  lordship  ;  who  was  occupied  in  writing  letters,  and  had  already 
refused  some  people  that  had  business  with  him.  Our  friend  became 
more  importunate  ;  the  old  man  was  at  last  obliged  to  yield,  and  an- 
nounce him.  He  returned,  and  conducted  Wilhelm  to  a  spacious 
ancient  hall  ;  desiring  liini  to  be  so  good  as  wait,  since  perhaps  it 
might  be  some  time  before  his  lordship  could  appear.  Our  friend 
walked  up  and  down  unrestf uUy  ;  casting  now  and  then  a  look  at  the 
knights  and  dames,  whose  ancient  figures  hung  round  him  on  the 
walls.  He  repeated  the  beginning  of  his  speech  :  it  seemed,  in  pres- 
ence of  these  ruffs  and  coats  of  mail,  to  answer  even  better,     Every 


813  MEI8TER' IS  APPRENTICESHIP. 

time  there  rose  any  stir,  lie  put  liimself  in  posture  to  receive  his  man 
with  dignity  ;  meaning  first  to  hand  him  the  letter,  then  assail  him 
with  the  weapons  of  reproach. 

More  than  once  mistaken,  he  was  now  beginning  to  be  really  vexed 
and  out  of  tune,  when  at  last  a  handsome  man,  in  boots  and  light 
surtout,  stepped  in  from  a  side  door.  "  What  good  news  have  you 
•forme?"  said  he  to  Wilhelm,  with  a  friendly  voice;  "pardon  me, 
that  I  have  made  you  wait." 

So  speaking,  he  kept  folding  a  letter,  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 
Wilhelm,  not  without  embarrassment,  delivered  him  Aurelia's  paper, 
and  replied  :  "I  bring  you  the  last  words  of  a  friend,  which  you  will 
not  read  without  emotion." 

Lothario  took  it,  and  returned  to  his  chamber  with  it  ;  where,  as 
Wilhelm  through  the  open  door  could  very  easily  observe,  he  addressed 
and  sealed  some  letters,  before  opening  Aurelia's.  He  appeared  to 
have  perused  it  once  or  twice  j  and  Wilhelm,  though  his  feelings 
signified  that  the  pathetic  speech  would  sort  but  ill  with  such  a  cool 
reception,  girded  up  his  mind,  went  forward  to  the  threshold,  and 
was  just  about  beginning  his  address,  Avhen  a  tapestry  door  of  the 
cabinet  opened,  and  the  clergyman  came  in. 

"  I  have  got  the  strangest  message  you  can  think  of,  "cried  Lothario 
to  him.  "Pardon  me,"  continued  he,  addressing  Wilhelm,  "if  I  am 
not  in  a  mood  for  speaking  farther  with  you  at  this  moment.  You 
remain  with  us  to-night :  you,  abb6,seethe  stranger  properly  attended 
to." 

With  these  words,  he  made  his  guest  a  bow  :  the  clergyman  took 
Wilhelm  by  the  hand,  who  followed,  not  without  reluctance. 

They  Avalked  along  some  curious  passages,  in  silence,  and  at  last 
reached  a  very  pretty  chamber.  The  abb6  led  him  in  ;  then  left 
him,  making  no  excuses.  Ere  long,  an  active  boy  appeared  ;  he 
introduced  himself  as  Wilhelm's  valet ;  and  brought  up  his  supper. 
In  waiting,  he  had  much  to  say  about  the  order  of  the  house,  about 
their  breakfasting  and  dining,  labors  and  amusements  ;  interspersing 
many  things  in  commendation  of  Lothario. 

Pleasant  as  the  boy  was,  W'ilhelm  endeavored  to  get  rid  of  him  as 
soon  as  possible.  He  wished  to  be  alone  ;  for  he  felt  exceedingly 
oppressed  and  straitened,  in  his  new  position.  He  reproached  himself 
with  having  executed  his  intentions  so  ill,  with  having  done  his 
errand  only  half.  One  moment,  he  proposed  to  overtake  next  iiiorn- 
ing  what  he  had  neglected  to-night ;  the  next,  he  saw  that  by 
Lothario's  presence  he  would  be  attuned  to  quite  a  different  set  of 
feelings.  Tlie  house,  too,  where  he  was,  seemed  very  strange  to 
him  ;  he  could  not  be  at  home  in  his  position.  Intending  to  undress, 
he  opened  his  traveling-bag  :  with  his  night-clothes,  he  took  out  the 
spirit's  veil,  which  Mignon  had  packed  in  along  with  them.  The 
sight  of  it  increased  the  sadness  of  his  humor.  "  Fly  !  youth,  fly!" 
cried  he.     "  What  means  this  mystic  word?    What  am  I  to  fly,  or 


BOOK  ril  CRAPTER  L  313 

whither  ?  It  were  better  had  the  spirit  called  to  me  :  return  to  thy- 
self ! "  He  cast  his  eyes  on  some  English  copperplates,  hung  round 
the  room  in  frames  ;  most  of  them  he  looked  at  with  indifference  :  at 
last  he  met  with  one,  in  which  a  ship  was  represented  sinking  in  a 
tempest ;  a  father  with  his  lovely  daughters  was  awaiting  death  from 
the  intrusive  billows.  One  of  the  maidens  had  a  kind  of  likeness  to 
the  Amazon  :  an  indescribable  compassion  seized  our  friend  ;  he  felfc 
an  irresistible  necessity  to  vent  his  feelings  ;  tears  filled  his  eyes,  he 
wept,  and  did  not  recover  his  composure,  till  slumber  cfverpowered 
him. 

Strange  dreams  arose  upon  him  towards  morning.  He  was  in  a 
garden,  which  in  boyhood  he  had  often  visited  ;  he  looked  with 
pleasure  at  the  well-known  alleys,  hedges,  flower  beds  :  Mariana  met 
him,  he  spoke  to  her  with  love  and  tenderness,  recollecting  nothing 
of  any  bygone  grievance.  Ere  long  his  father  joined  them,  in  his 
week-day  dress  ;  with  a  look  of  frankness  that  was  rare  in  him,  he 
bade  his  son  fetch  tv/o  seats  from  the  garden-house  ;  then  took 
Mariana  by  the  hand,  and  led  her  into  a  grove. 

Wilhelm  hastened  to  the  garden-house,  but  found  it  altogether 
empty  ;  only  at  a  window  in  the  farther  side  he  saw  Aurelia  stand- 
ing. He  went  forward  and  addressed  her,  but  she  turned  not  round  ; 
and  though  he  placed  himself  beside  her,  he  could  never  see  her  face. 
He  looked  out  from  the  window  ;  in  an  unknown  garden,  there  were 
several  people,  some  of  whom  he  recognized.  Frau  Melina,  seated 
under  a  tree  was  placing  with  a  rose,  which  she  had  in  her  hand  ; 
Laertes  stood  beside  her,  counting  money  from  the  one  hand  to  the 
other.  Mignon  and  Felix  were  lying  on  the  grass  ;  the  former  on  her 
back,  the  latter  on  his  face.  Philina  came  and  clapped  her  hands 
above  the  children  ;  Mignon  lay  unmoved  ;  Felix  started  up  and  fled. 
At  first  he  laughed  while  running,  as  Philina  followed  ;  but  he 
screamed  in  terror,  when  he  saw  the  harper  coming  after  him 
with  large,  slow  steps.  Felix  ran  directly  to  a  pond  ;  Wilhelm 
hastened  after  him  :  too  late  ;  the  child  was  lying  in  the  water  ! 
Wilhelm  stood  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot.  The  fair  Amazon  appeared 
on  the  other  side  of  the  pond  ;  she  stretched  her  right  hand  towards 
the  child,  and  walked  along  the  shore.  The  child  came  through  the 
water,  by  the  course  her  finger  pointed  to  ;  he  followed  her  as  she 
went  round  ;  at  last  she  reached  her  hand  to  him,  and  pulled  him 
out.  Wilhelm  had  come  nearer  ;  the  child  was  all  in  flames  ;  fiery 
drops  were  falling  from  his  body.  Wilhelm's  agony  was  greater 
than  ever  ;  but  instantly  the  Amazon  took  a  Avhite  veil  from  her 
head,  and  covered  up  the  child  with  it.  The  fire  was  at  once 
quenched.  But  when  she  lifted  up  the  veil,  two  boys  sprang  out 
from  under  it,  and  frolicsomely  sported  to  and  fro  ;  while  Wilhelm 
and  the  Amazon  proceeded  hand  in  hand  across  the  garden  ;  and 
noticed  in  the  distance  JIariana  and  his  father  walking  in  an  alley, 
which  was  formed  of  lofty  trees,  and  seemed  to  go  quite  round  the 


314  MEI8TER  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

garden.  He  turned  his  steps  to  tliein,  and  with  his  beautiful 
attendant  was  moving  through  the  garden,  when  suddenly  the  fair- 
haired  Friedrich  came  across  their  path,  and  kept  them  back  witli 
loud  laughter  and  a  thousand  tricks.  Still,  however,  they  insisted 
on  proceeding ;  and  Friedrich  hastened  off,  running  towards  Mariana 
and  the  father.  These  seemed  to  fly  before  liini  ;  he  pursued  the 
faster  ;  till  Wilhelm  saw  them  hovering  down  the  alley  almost  as  on 
wings.  Nature  and  inclination  called  on  liim  to  go,  and  help  them  ; 
but  the  lia'nd  of  the  Amazon  detained  him.  How  gladly  did  he  let 
himself  be  held  I  W"\i\\  this  mingled  feeling  he  awoke  ;  and  found 
his  chamber  shining  with  the  morning  beams. 


CHAPTER  II. 


OiTR  friend  was  called  to  breakfast  by  the  boy  :  he  found  the  abb6 
waiting  in  the  hall  ;  Lothario,  it  appeared,  had  ridden  out.  The 
abb6  was  not  very  talkative,  but  rather  wore  a  thoughtful  look  ;  he 
inquired  alx)ut  Aurelia's  death,  and  listened  to  our  friend's  recital  of 
it,  with  apparent  sympathy.  "  Ah  !  "  cried  he,  "  the  man  that  dis- 
cerns, with  lively  clearness,  wliat  infinite  operations  art  and  nature 
must  have  joined  in,  before  a  cultivated  human  being  can  be  formed  ; 
the  man  that  himself  as  much  as  possible  takes  interest  in  the  culture 
of  his  fellow-men,  is  ready  to  despair  when  he  sees  how  lightly  mor- 
tals will  destroy  themselves,  will  blamelessly  or  blamably  expose 
themselves  to  be  destroyed.  When  I  think  of  these  things,  life  itself 
appears  to  me  so  uncertain  a  gift,  that  1  could  praise  the  man  who 
does  not  value  it  beyond  its  worth." 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken,  when  the  door  flew  violently  up  ;  a  young 
lady  came  rushing  in  ;  she  pushed  away  the  old  servant  who  attempted 
to  restrain  her.  She  made  right  to  the  abbe,  and  seized  him  by  the 
arm  ;  her  tears  and  sobs  would  hardly  let  her  speak  tliese  words  : 
"Where  is  he?  Where  have  you  put  him?  "i'is  a  frightful  treach- 
ery I  Confess  it  now!  I  know  what  you  are  doing;  I  will  after 
him  ;  will  know  where  you  liave  sent  him  !  " 

"  Be  calm,  my  cliild,"  replied  the  abbe,  with  assumed  composure  ; 
"come  with  me  to  your  room  ;  you  shall  know  it  all  ;  only  you  must 
have  the  strength  to  listen,  if  you  ask  me  to  relate."  He  offered  her 
his  hand,  as  if  he  meant  to  lead  her  out.  "  I  will  not  return  to  my 
room,''  cried  she  :  "1  hate  the  walls  where  you  have  kept  me  pris- 
oner so  long.  I  know  it  all  already  ;  the  colonel  has  challenged  liim  ; 
he  is  gone  to  meet  his  enemy  ;  perhaps  this  very  moment  he — Once 
or  twice  1  thought  I  heard  the  sound  of  shots  !  I  tell  you,  order  out  a 
coach,  and  come  along  with  me,  or  I  will  fill  the  house  and  all  the 
village  with  my  screaming.  " 


BOOK  VI f.  CHAP T Eli  11.  315 

Weeping  bitterly,  she  hastened  to  the  window  ;  the  abb6  held  her 
back,  and  sought  in  vain  to  soothe  her. 

Tliey  heard  a  sound  of  wheels  ;  she  threw  up  the  window,  exclaim- 
ing :  "  He  is  dead  !  They  are  bringing  home  his  body. "  "  He  is  com- 
ing out,"  replied  the  abb6  ;  "  you  perceive  he  lives."  "  He  is 
wounded,"  said  she  wildly,  "  else  he  would  have  come  on  horseback. 
They  are  holding  him  !  The  wound  is  dangerous  ! "  She  ran  to  the 
door,  and  down  the  stairs  :  the  abb6  hastened  after  her  ;  and  VVil- 
lielm  following,  observed  the  fair  one  meet  her  lover,  who  had  now 
dismounted. 

Lothario  leaned  on  his  attendant,  whom  Wilhelm  at  once  knew  as 
his  ancient  patron  Jarno.  The  wounded  man  spoke  very  tenderly 
and  kindly  to  the  tearful  damsel  ;  he  rested  on  her  shoulder,  and 
came  slowly  up  the  steps  ;  saluted  Wilhelm  as  he  passed,  and  was 
conducted  to  his  cabinet. 

Jarno  soon  returned,  and  going  up  to  Wilhelm,  "  It  appears,"  said 
he,  "you  are  predestined  everywhere  to  find  a  theater  and  actors. 
We  have  here  commenced  a  play  which  is  not  altogether  pleasant." 

"I  rejoiced  to  find  you,"  answered  ^^'ilhelm,  "in  so  strange  an 
hour  :  I  am  astonished,  frightened  ;  and  your  presence  already  quiets 
my  mind  Tell  me,  is  there  danger?  Is  the  baron  badly  wounded?" 
"  I  imagine  not,"  said  Jarno. 

It  was  not  long  till  the  young  surgeon  entered  from  the  cabinet. 
"  Now  what  say  you?  "  cried  Jarno  to  him.  "  That  it  is  a  dangerous 
piece  of  work,"  replied  the  other,  putting  several  instruments  into 
his  leathern  pouch.  Wilhelm  looked  at  the  band,  which  was  hang- 
ing from  the  pouch  ;  he  fancied  he  knew  it.  Bright  contrary  colors, 
a  curious  pattern,  gold  and  silver  wrought  in  singular  figures,  marked 
this  band  from  all  the  bands  in  the  world.  \Mllielm  was  convinced 
he  beheld  the  very  pouch  of  the  ancient  surgeon  who  had  dressed  his 
wounds  in  the  green  of  the  forest  ;  and  the  hope,  so  long  deferred, 
of  again  finding  traces  of  the  lovely  Amazon,  struck  like  a  flame 
through  all  his  soul. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  pouch?"  cried  he.  "  To  whom  did  it  be- 
long before  you?  I  beg  of  you,  tell  me."  "I  bought  it  at  an  auc- 
tion," said  the  other  :  "  what  is  it  to  me  whom  it  belonged  to?"  So 
speaking,  he  went  out ;  and  Jarno  said  :  "  If  there  would  come  but 
one  word  of  truth  from  our  young  doctor's  mouth  !  "  "  Then  he  did 
not  buy  the  pouch?"  said  Wilhelm.  "Just  as  little  as  Lothario  is 
in  danger,"  said  the  other. 

Wilhelm  stood  immersed  in  many  reflections  ;  Jarno  asked  how  he 
had  fared  of  late.  Wilhelm  sketched  an  outline  of  his  history  ;  and 
when  he  at  last  came  to  speak  of  Aurelia's  death,  and  his  message 
to  the  place,  his  auditor  exclaimed :  "  Well  !  it  is  strange,  most 
strange  !  " 

The  abb6  entered  from  Lothario's  chamber  ;  beckoned  Jarno  to  go 
in  instead  of  him  ;  and  said  to  Wilhelm  :  "  The  Baron  bids  me  ask 


316  MEISTEK'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

you  to  remain  witli  us  a  day  or  two,  to  share  his  hospitality,  and,  in 
the  present  circumstances,  contribute  to  his  solacement.  If  you  need 
to  give  any  notice  to  your  people,  your  letter  shall  be  instantly  dis- 
patched. Meanwhile,  to  make  you  understand  this  curious  incident, 
of  which  you  have  been  witness,  I  must  tell  you  something,  which 
indeed  is  no  secret.  The  baron  had  a  small  adventure  with  a  lady, 
which  excited  more  than  usual  attention  ;  the  lady  having  taken  him 
from  a  rival,  and  wishing  to  enjoy  her  victory  too  ostentatiously. 
After  a  time,  he  no  longer  found  the  same  delight  in  her  society  ; 
which  he  of  course  forsook  ;  but  being  of  a  violent  temper,  she 
could  not  bear  her  fate  with  patience.  Meeting  at  a  ball,  they  had 
an  open  quarrel  :  she  thought  herself  irreparably  injured  ;  and 
would  be  revenged.  No  knight  stepped  forth  to  do  battle  for  her  ;  till 
her  husband,  whom  for  years  she  had  not  lived  with,  heard  of  the . 
affair  and  took  it  up.  He  challenged  the  baron,  and  to-day  he  has 
wounded  him  ;  yet,  as  I  hear,  the  gallant  colonel  has  himself  come 
still  worse  off." 

From  this  hour,  our  friend  was  treated  in  the  house  as  if  he  had 
belonged  to  it. 


CHAPTER  in. 


At  times  they  had  read  a  little  to  the  patient  ;  Wilhelm  joyfully 
performed  this  service.  Lydia  stirred  not  from  Lothario's  bed  ;  her 
care  for  him  absorbed  her  whole  attention.  But  to-day  the  patient 
himself  seemed  occupied  with  thought  :  he  bade  them  lay  aside  their 
book.  "To-day,"  said  he,  "  I  feel  through  my  whole  heart  how 
foolishly  we  let  our  time  pass  on.  How  many  things  have  I  pro- 
posed to  do,  how  many  have  I  planned  ;  yet  how  we  loiter  in  our 
noblest  purposes  !  I  have  just  read  over  the  scheme  of  the  changes 
which  I  mean  to  make  in  my  estates  :  and  it  is  chiefly,  I  may  say, 
on  their  account  that  I  rejoice  at  the  bullet's  not  having  gone  a 
deadlier  road." 

Lydia  looked  at  him  with  tenderness,  with  tears  in  her  eyes  ;  as  if 
to  ask  if  slic,  if  his  friends  could  not  pretend  to  any  interest  in  his 
wish  to  live.  Jarno  answered  :  "  Changes,  such  as  you  project,  re- 
quire to  be  considered  well  on  every  side,  before  tliey  are  resolved  on," 

"  Long  considerations,"  said  Lothario,  "  are  commonly  a  proof 
that  we  have  not  the  point  to  be  determined  clearly  in  our  eye  ; 
precipitate  proceedings  that  we  do  not  know  it.  I  see  distinctly  that 
in  managing  my  property,  there  are  several  particulars,  in  which  the 
services  of  my  dependants  cannot  be  remitted  ;  certain  rights  which 
I  must  rigidly  insist  on  ;  but  I  also  see  that  there  are  other  articles, 
advantageous  to  me,  but  by  no  means  indispensable,  which  might 
fidrait  of  relaxation.     Do  I  not  profit  by  my  lands  far  better  than  my 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  III.  317 

father  did?  Is  not  my  income  still  increasing?  And  shall  I  alone 
enjoy  this  growing  benefit  ?  Shall  not  those  who  labor  with  and  for 
me  partake,  in  their  degree,  of  the  advantages  which  expanding 
knowledge,  which  a  period  of  improvement  are  procuring  for  us  ?  " 

"'Tis  human  nature?  "  cried  Jarno  :  "  I  do  not  blame  myself  when 
I  detect  this  selfish  quality  among  the  rest.  Every  man  desires  to 
gather  all  things  round  him,  to  shape  and  manage  them  according 
to  his  own  pleasure  :  the  money  which  he  himself  does  not  expend, 
he  seldom  reckons  well  expended." 

"Certainly,"  observed  Lothario,  mucli  of  the  capital  might  be 
abated,  if  we  consumed  the  interest  less  capriciously." 

"  The  only  tiling  I  sliall  mention,"  said  the  other,  "the  only  reason 
I  can  urge  against  your  now  proceeding  with  those  alterations, 
which,  for  a  time  at  least,  must  cause  you  loss,  is,  that  you  yourself 
are  still  in  debt,  and  that  the  payment  presses  hard  on  you.  My  ad- 
vice is,  therefore,  to  postpone  your  plan  till  you  are  altogether  free." 
"  And  in  the  meanwhile  leave  it  at  the  mercy  of  a  bullet,  or  the 
fall  of  a  tile,  to  annihilate  the  whole  result  of  my  existence  and  ac- 
tivity !  O  my  friend  !  it  is  ever  thus  ;  it  is  ever  the  besetting  fault 
of  cultivated  men,  that  they  wish  to  spend  their  whole  resources  on 
some  idea,  scarcely  any  part  of  them  on  tangible  existing  objects. 
Why  was  it  that  I  contracted  debts,  that  I  quarreled  with  my  uncle, 
that  I  left  my  sisters  to  themselves  so  long  ?  Purely  for  the  sake  of 
an  idea.  In  America,  I  fancied  I  might  accomplish  something ;  over 
seas,  I  hoped  to  become  useful  and  essential  :  if  any  task  Avas  not 
begirt  with  a  thousand  dangers,  I  considered  it  trivial,  unworthy  of 
me.  How  differently  do  matters  now  appear  !  How  precious,  how  im- 
portant seems  the  duty  which  is  nearest  me,  whatever  it  may  be  !" 

"  I  recollect  the  letter  which  you  sent  me  from  the  Western  world," 
said  Jarno  :  "  it  contained  the  words  :  '  I  will  return,  and  in  my  house, 
amid  my  fields,  among  my  people,  I  will  say  :  Here  or  nowliere  is 
America  /  " 

"  Yes,  my  friend  !  and  I  am  still  repeating  it,  and  still  repining  at 
myself  that  I  am  not  so  busy  here  as  I  was  there.  For  certain  equable, 
continuous  modes  of  life,  there  is  nothing  more  than  judgment 
necessa.ry,  and  we  study  to  attain  nothing  more  ;  so  we  become  unable 
to  discern  what  extraordinary  services  each  vulgar  day  requires  of 
us  ;  or  if  we  do  discern  them,  we  find  abundance  of  excuses  for  not  doing 
them.  A  judicious  man  is  valuable  to  himself  ;  but  of  little  value 
for  the  general  whole." 

"  We  will  not,"  said  Jarno,  "bear  too  hard  upon  judgment:  let 
us  grant  that  whenever  extraordinary  things  are  done,  they  are  gen- 
erally foolish." 

"  Yes  !  and  just  because  they  are  not  done  according  to  the  proper 
plan.  My  brother-in-law,  you  see,  is  giving  up  his  fortune,  so  far  as 
in  his  power,  to  the  community  of  Herrnhut  ;  he  reckons  that  by  do- 
ing so,  he  is  advancing  the  salvation  of  his  soul.     Had  he  sacrificed 


318  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

a  small  portion  of  his  revenue,  lie  might  have  rendered  many  people 
happy,  might  have  made  for  them  and  for  himself  a  heaven  upon 
earth.  Our  sacrifices  are  rarely  of  an  active  kind  ;  we,  as  it  were, 
abandon  what  we  give  away.  It  is  not  from  resolution  iDut  despair, 
that  we  renounce  our  property.  In  these  days,  I  confess  it,  the  image 
of  the  count  is  hovering  constantly  before  me  ;  I  have  firmly  resolved 
on  doing  from  conviction,  what  a  crazy  fear  is  forcing  upon  him.  I 
will  not  wait  fo^  being  cured.  Here  are  the  papers  ;  they  require 
only  to  be  properly  drawn  out.  Take  the  lawyer  with  you  ;  our  guest 
will  help  :  what  I  want,  you  know  as  well  as  I ;  recovering  or  dying 
I  will  stand  by  it,  and  say  :  Here  or  nowhere  is  Herrnhut  !  " 

When  he  mentioned  dying,  Lydia  sank  before  his  bed  ;  she  hung 
upon  his  arm,  and  wept  bitterly.  The  surgeon  entered  ;  Jarno  gave 
our  friend  the  papers,  and  made  Lydia  leave  the  room. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  !  what  is  this  about  the  count?  "  cried  Wil- 
lielm,  when  they  reached  the  liall  and  were  alone.  "  What  count  is 
it  that  means  to  join  the  Herrnhuters  ?" 

"  One  whom  you  know  very  well,"  said  Jarno.  "  You  yourself  are 
the  ghost  who  have  frightened  the  unhappy  wiseacre  into  piety  ;  you 
are  the  villain  who  liave  brought  his  pretty  wife  to  such  a  state,  that 
she  inclines  accompanying  him." 

"  And  she  is  Lothario's  sister?  "  cried  our  friend. 

"No  other  ! " 

"And  Lothario  knows — ?  " 

"The  whole." 

"  O  let  me  fly  I  "  cried  Wilhelm.  ' '  How  shall  I  appear  before  him  ? 
What  can  he  say  to  me  ?  " 

•  "That  no  man  shall  cast  a  stone  at  his  brother  ;  that  when  one 
composes  long  speeches,  with  a  view  to  shame  his  neighbors,  he 
should  speak  them  to  a  looking-glass." 

"  Do  you  know  that  too?" 

"  And  many  things  beside,"  said  Jarno  with  a  smile.  "  But  in  the 
present  case,"  continued  he,  "you  shall  not  get  away  from  me  so 
easily  as  you  did  the  last  time.  You  need  not  now  be  apprehensive 
of  my  bounty  money  ;  I  have  ceased  to  be  a  soldier  ;  when  I  was  one, 
you  might  have  thought  more  charitably  of  me.  Since  you  saw  me, 
many  things  have  altered.  My  prince,  my  only  friend  and  benefac- 
tor, being  dead,  I  have  now  withdrawn  from  busy  life  and  its  con- 
cerns. I  used  to  have  a  pleasure  in  advancing  what  was  reasonable  ; 
when  I  met  with  any  despicable  thing,  I  hesitated  not  to  call  it  so  : 
and  men  had  never  done  with  talking  of  my  restless  head  and  wicked 
tongue.  The  herd  of  people  dread  sound  understanding  more  than 
anything  ;  they  ought  to  dread  stupidity,  if  they  had  any  notion  what 
was  really  dreadful.  Understanding  is  unpleasant,  they  must  have 
it  pushed  aside  stupidity,  is  but  pernicious,  they  can  let  it  stay. 
Well,  be  it  so  !  1  need  to  live;  I  will  by  and  by  communicate  my 
plans  to  you  ;  if  you  incline,  you  shall  partake  in  them.    But  me  telj 


BOOK  VIL  CHAPTER  HI  319 

first  how  things  have  gone  with  you.  I  see,  I  feel  that  you  are 
changed.  How  is  it  with  your  ancient  maggot  of  producing  some- 
thing beautiful  and  good  in  the  society  of  gipsies?  " 

"  Do  not  speak  of  it  ! "  cried  Wilhelm  ;  "I  have  been  already  pun- 
ished for  it.  People  talk  about  the  stage  ;  but  none,  that  has  not 
been  upon  it  personally,  can  form  the  smallest  notion  of  it.  How 
utterly  these  nien  are  unacquainted  with  themselves,  how  thought- 
lessly they  carry  on  their  trade,  liow  Iwuudless  their  pretensions  are, 
no  mortal  can  conceive.  Each  not  (jnly  would  be  first,  but  sole  ;  each 
wishes  to  exclude  the  rest,  and  does  not  see  that  even  with  them,  he 
can  scarcely  accomp]ish  anytliing.  Each  thinks  himself  a  man  of 
marvelous  originality  ;  yet  with  a  ravening  appetite  for  novelty,  he 
cannot  walk  a  footstep  from  the  beaten  track.  How  vehemently  they 
counterwork  each  other  !  It  is  only  the  pitifulest  self-love,  the  nar- 
rowest views  of  interest  that  unite  them.  Of  reciprocal  accommo- 
dation they  have  no  idea  ;  backbiting  and  hidden  spitef  uluess  maintain 
a  constant  jealousy  among  them.  In  their  lives  they  are  either  rakes 
or  simpletons.  Each  claims  the  loftiest  respect,  each  writhes  under 
the  slightest  lilame.  '  All  tliis  he  knew  already,'  he  will  tell  you  ! 
Why  then  did  he  not  do  it?  Ever  needy,  ever  unconfiding,  they  seem 
as  if  their  greatest  fear  were  reason  and  good  taste,  their  highest  care 
were  to  secure  the  majesty  of  their  self-will." 

Wilhelm  drew  breath,  intending  to  proceed  with  his  eulogium, 
when  an  immoderate  laugh  from  Jarno  interrupted  him.  "Poor 
actors  ! "  cried  he  ;  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and  laughed  away. 
"  Poor  dear  actors  !  Do  you  know,  my  friend,"  continued  he,  recov- 
ering from  his  fit,  "  that  you  have  been  describing  not  the  playhouse, 
but  the  world  ;  that  out  of  all  ranks  I  could  find  you  characters  and 
doings  in  abundance,  to  suit  your  cruel  pencil?  Pardon  me,  it  makes 
me  laugh  again,  that  you  should  think  these  amiable  qualities  existed 
on  the  boards  alone." 

Wilhelm  checked  his  feelings  ;  Jarno's  extravagant,  untimely  laugh- 
ter had,  m  truth,  offended  him.  "It  is  scarcely  hiding  your  misan- 
thropy," said  he,  "  when  you  maintain  that  faults  like  these  are 
universal." 

"And  it  shows  your  unacquaintance  with  the  world,  when  you 
impute  them  to  the  theater  in  such  a  heinous  light.  I  pardon  in  the 
player  every  fault  that  springs  from  self-deception  and  the  desire  to 
please.  If  he  seem  not  something  to  himself  and  others,  he  is  noth- 
ing. To  seem  is  his  vocation  ;  he  must  prize  his  moment  of  applause, 
for  he  gets  no  other  recompense  ;  he  must  try  to  glitter,  he  is  there 
to  do  so. " 

"  You  will  give  me  leave,  at  least,  to  smile  in  my  turn,"  answered 
Wilhelm.  "  I  should  never  have  believed  that  you  could  be  .so 
merciful,  so  tolerant." 

"  I  swear  to  you  I  am  serious,  fully  and  deliberately  serious.  All 
faults  of  the  man  I  can  pardon  in  the  player  ;  no  fault  of  the  player 


320  MEISfER'8  APPRmTtCESHlP. 

can  I  pardon  in  the  man.  Do  not  set  me  upon  clianting  my  lament 
about  the  latter  ;  it  might  have  a  sharper  sound  than  yours." 

The  surgeon  entered  from  the  cabinet  ;  and  to  the  question  how  his 
patient  was,  he  answered  with  a  lively  air  of  complaisance:  "Ex- 
tremely well,  indeed  ;  I  hope  soon  to  see  him  quite  recovered."  He 
hastened  through  the  hall,  not  waiting  Wilhelm's  speech,  who  was 
preparing  to  inquire  again,  with  greater  importunity,  about  the 
case.  His  anxiety  to  gain  some  tidings  of  his  Amazon  inspired  him 
with  confidence  in  Jarno  ;  he  disclosed  his  case  to  him,  and  begged  his 
help.  "  You  that  know  so  many  things,"  said,  "  can  you  not  discover 
this?" 

Jarno  reflected  for  a  moment,  then  turning  to  his  friend:  "Be 
calm,"  said  he,  "  give  no  one  any  hint  of  it  ;  we  shall  come  upon  the 
fair  one's  footsteps,  never  fear.  At  present,  I  am  anxious  only  for 
Lothario  ;  the  case  is  dangerous  ;  the  kindliness  and  comfortable  talk- 
ing of  the  doctor  tells  me  so.  We  should  be  quit  of  Lydia  ;  for  here 
she  does  no  good  ;  but  how  to  set  about  the  task,  I  know  not.  To- 
night I  am  looking  for  our  old  physician  ;  we  shall  then  take  farther 
counsel." 


CHAPTER  IV. 


The  physician  came  :  it  was  the  good,  old,  little  doctor  whom  we 
know  already,  and  to  whom  we  were  obliged  for  the  communication 
of  the  pious  manuscript.  First  of  all,  he  visited  the  wounded  man  ; 
with  whose  condition  he  appeared  to  be  by  no  means  satisfied.  He  had 
next  a  long  interview  with  Jarno  ;  but  they  made  no  allusion  to  the 
subject  of  it  when  tliey  came  to  supper. 

Wilhelm  saluted  him  in  the  kindest  manner,  and  inquired  about  the 
harper.  "We  have  still  hopes  of  bringing  round  the  hapless  crea- 
ture," answered  the  physician.  "He  formed  a  dreary  item  in  your 
limited  and  singular  way  of  life,"  said  Jarno.  "How  has  it  fared 
with  him?     Tell  me." 

Having  satisfied  Jarno's  curiosity,  the  physician  thus  proceeded  : 
"  I  have  never  seen  another  man  so  strangely  circumstanced.  For 
many  years,  he  has  not  felt  the  smallest  interest  in  anything  without 
him,  scarcely  paid  the  smallest  notice  to  it  :  wrapped  up  in  himself, 
he  has  looked  at  nothing  but  his  own  hollow  empty  Me,  which 
seemed  to  him  lilce  an  immeasurable  abyss.  It  was  reallj'  touching, 
when  he  spoke  to  us  of  this  mournful  state.  ".Before  me,'  cried  he, 
'  I  see  nothing  ;  behind  me  nothing  but  an  endless  night,  in  which  I 
live  in  the  most  iiorrid  solitude.  There  is  no  feeling  in  me,  but  the 
feeling  of  my  guilt :  and  this  appears  but  like  a  dim  formless  spirit, 
far  before  me.  Yet  here  there  is  no  height,  no  depth,  no  forwards, 
no  backwards  ;  no  words  can  express  this  never-changing  state. 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  IV.  321 

Often  in  agony  of  this  sameness,  I  exclaim  with  violence  :  Forever  ! 
forever ;  and  this  dark  incomprehensible  word  is  clear  and  plain  to 
the  gloom  of  my  condition.  No  ray  of  a  divinity  illuminates  this 
night  ;  I  shed  all  my  tears  by  myself  and  for  myself.  Nothing  is 
more  horrible  to  me  than  friendship  and  love  ;  for  they  alone  excite 
in  me  the  wish  that  the  apparitions  which  surround  me  might  be  real. 
But  these  two  specters  also  have  arisen  from  the  abyss  to  plague  me, 
and  at  length  to  tear  from  me  the  precious  consciousness  of  my  exist- 
ence, unearthly  though  it  be.' 

"  You  should  hear  him  speak,"  continued  the  physician,  "  when  in 
hours  of  confidence  he  thus  alleviates  his  heart.  I  have  listened  to 
him  often  with  the  deepest  feelings.  When  pressed  by  anything, 
and  as  it  were  compelled  for  an  instant  to  confess  that  a  space  of  tune 
has  passed,  he  looks  astounded,  then  again  refers  the  alteration  to  the 
things  about  him,  considering  it  as  an  appearance  of  appearances,  and 
so  rejecting  the  idea  of  progress  in  duration.  One  night  he  sung  a 
song  about  his  gray  hairs  :  we  all  sat  round  him  weeping." 

"  O  get  it  for  me  !  "  cried  Wilhelin. 

"  But  have  you  not  discovered  any  trace  of  what  he  calls  his 
crime?"  inquired  Jarno  :  "  nor  found  out  the  reason  of  his  wearing 
such  a  singular  garb  ;  of  his  conduct  at  the  burning  of  the  house  ,  of 
his  rage  against  the  child  ?  " 

"  It  is  only  by  conjectures  that  we  can  approximate  to  any  knowledge 
of  his  fate  :  to  question  him  directly,  contradicts  our  principle. 
Observing  easily  that  he  was  of  the  Catholic  religion,  we  thought 
perhaps  confession  might  afford  him  .some  assuagement ;  but  he 
shrinks  away,  with  the  strangest  gestures,  every  time  we  try  to 
introduce  the  priest  to  him.  However,  not  to  leave  your  curiosity 
respecting  him  entirely  unsatisfied,  I  may  communicate  our  supposi- 
tions on  the  subject.  In  his  youth,  we  think,  he  must  have  been  a 
clergyman  :  hence  probably  his  wish  to  keep  his  beard  and  long 
cloak.  The  joys  of  love  appear  to  have  remained  for  many  years 
unknown  to  him.  Late  in  life,  as  we  conceive,  some  aberration  with  a 
lady  very  nearly  related  to  him  ;  then  her  death,  tlie  consequence 
of  an  unlucky  creature's  birth,  have  altogether  crazed  his  brain. 

"  His  chief  delusion  is  a  fancy  that  he  brings  misfortune  every- 
where along  with  him  ;  and  that  death,  to  be  unwittingly  occasioned 
by  a  boy,  is  constantly  impending  over  him.  At  first  he  was  afraid  of 
Mignon,  not  knowing  that  she  was  a  girl  ;  then  Felix  frightened  him  ; 
and  as,  with  all  his  misery,  he  has  a  boundless  love  of  life,  this  may 
perhaps  have  been  the  origin  of  his  aversion  to  the  child." 

"  What  hopes  have  you  of  his  recovery?  "  inquired  our  friend. 

"It  advances  slowly,"  answered  the  physician;  "yet  it  does 
advance.  He  continues  his  appointed  occupations  :  we  have  now 
accustomed  him  to  read  the  newspapers  ;  he  always  looks  for  them 
with  eagerness." 

"  I  am  curious  about  his  songs,"  said  Jarno. 
Meister — 11 


322  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"Of  these  I  can  eugage  to  get  you  several,"  replied  the  doctor. 
"  Our  parson's  eldest  son,  who  frequently  writes  down  his  father's 
sermons,  has,  unnoticed  by  the  harper,  marked  on  paper  many 
stanzas  of  his  singing  ;  out  of  which  some  songs  have  gradually  been 
pieced  together." 

Next  morning  Jarno  met  our  friend,  and  said  to  him  :  ' '  We  have 
to  ask  a  kindness  of  you.  Lydia  must,  for  some  time,  be  removed  : 
her  violent  unreasonable  love  and  passionateness  hinders  the  baron's 
recovery.  His  wound  requires  rest  and  calmness,  though  with  his 
healthy  temperament  it  is  not  dangerous.  You  see  how  Lydia  tor- 
tures him  with  her  tenipestuous  anxieties,  her  ungovernable  terrors, 
her  never-drying  tears  ;  and — enough  !  "  he  added  with  a  smile,  after 
pausing  for  a  moment,  "  our  doctor  expressly  requires  that  she  must 
quit  us  for  a  while.  We  have  got  her  to  believe  that  a  lady,  one  of 
her  most  intimate  friends,  is  at  present  in  the  neighborhood,  wishing 
and  expecting  instantly  to  see  her.  She  has  been  prevailed  upon  to 
undertake  a  journey  to  our  lawyer's,  which  is  but  two  leagues  off. 
This  man  is  in  the  secret  :  he  will  woefully  lament  that  Fraulein 
Theresa  should  just  have  left  him  again  ;  he  will  seem  to  think  she 
may  still  be  overtaken.  Lydia  will  hasten  after  her  ;  and  if  you 
prosper,  will  be  led  from  place  to  place.  At  last,  if  she  insist  on 
turning  back,  you  must  not  contradict  her  ;  but  the  night  will  help 
you  ;  the  coachman  is  a  cunning  knave,  and  we  shall  speak  with  him 
before  he  goes.  You  are  to  travel  with  her  in  the  coach,  to  talk  to 
her,  and  manage  the  adventure."  ^ 

"  It  is  a  strange  and  dulnous  commission  that  you  give  me,"  an- 
swered Wilhelm.  "  How  painful  is  tlie  sight  of  true  love  injured  ! 
And  am  I  to  be  the  instrument  of  injuring  it?  I  have  never  cheated 
any  person  so  :  for  it  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  if  we  once  begin 
deceiving  with  a  view  to  good  and  useful  purposes,  we  run  the  risk 
of  carrying  it  to  excess." 

"  Yet  you  cannot  manage  children  otherwise,"  said  Jarno. 

"With  children  it  may  do,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "for  we  love  them 
tenderly,  and  take  an  open  charge  of  them.  But  with  our  equals, 
in  behalf  of  whom  our  heart  is  not  so  sure  to  call  upon  lis  for  for- 
bearance, it  might  frequently  be  dangerous.  Yet  do  not  think,"  he 
added,  after  pausing  for  a  moment,  "  that  I  intend  to  decline  the  task 
on  this  account.  Honoring  your  judgment,  as  I  do,  feeling  such  attach- 
ment to  your  noble  friend,  such  eagerness  to  forward  his  recovery  by 
whatever  means,  I  willingly  forget  myself  and  my  opinions.  It  is  not 
enough  that  we  can  risk  our  life  to  serve  a  friend  ;  in  the  hour  of 
need  we  shoiild  also  yield  him  our  convictions.  Our  dearest  pas- 
sions, our  best  wishes  we  are  bound  to  sacrifice  in  helping  him.  I 
undertake  the  charge  ;  though  it  is  easy  to  foresee  the  pain  1  shall  have 
to  suffer  from  the  tears,  from  the  despair  of  Lydia." 

"  And  for  this,  no  small  reward  awaits  you,"  aiaswered  Jarno  : 
' '  Fraulein  Theresa,  whom  you  get  acquainted  with,  is  a  lady  such  as 


SOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  IV  323 

you  will  rarely  see.  She  puts  many  a  man  to  shame  :  I  may  say,  she 
is  a  genuine  Amazon  ;  while  others  are  but  pretty  counterfeits,  that 
wander  up  and  down  the  world  in  that  ambiguous  dress." 

Wilhelm  was  struck  :  he  almost  fancied  that  in  Theresa  he  would 
find  his  Amazon  again  ;  especially  as  Jarno,  whom  he  importuned  to 
tell  him  more,  broke  off  abruptly,  and  went  away. 

The  new,  near  hope  of  once  more  seeing  that  beloved  and  honored 
being,  awoke  a  thousand  feelings  in  his  heart.  He  now  looked  upon 
the  task,  which  had  been  given  him,  as  the  intervention  of  a  special 
Providence  ;  the  thought  that  he  was  minded  treacherously  to  carry 
off  a  helpless  girl  from  the  object  of  her  sincerest,  warmest  love,  dwelt 
but  a  moment  in  his  mind,  as  the  shadow  of  a  bird  flits  over  the  sun- 
shiny earth. 

The  coach  was  at  the  door  ;  Lydia  lingered  for  a  moment,  as  she 
was  about  to  mount.  "  Salute  your  lord  again  for  me,"  said  she  to 
the  old  servant  ;  "  tell  him  that  I  shall  be  home  before  night."  Tears 
were  standing  in  her  eyes,  as  she  again  looked  back  when  the  carriage 
started.  She  then  turned  round  to  Wilhelm  ;  made  an  affort  to  com- 
pose herself,  and  said  :  "In  Friiulein  Theresa  you  will  find  a  very 
interesting  person.  I  wonder  what  it  is  that  brings  lier  hither  ;  for, 
you  must  know,  Lothario  and  she  once  passionately  loved  each  other. 
In  sj)ite  of  the  distance,  he  often  used  to  visit  her  :  I  was  staying  with 
her  then  ;  I  thought  they  would  have  lived  and  died  for  one  another. 
But  all  at  once  it  went  to  wreck,  no  creature  could  discover  why.  He 
had  seen  me,  and  I  must  confess  that  I  was  envious  of  Theresa's  for- 
tune ;  that  I  scarcely  hid  my  love  from  him  ;  that  when  he  suddenly- 
appeared  to  choose  me  in  her  stead,  I  could  not  but  accept  him.  She 
behaved  to  me  beyond  my  wishes  ;  though  it  almost  seemed  as  if  I 
had  robbed  her  of  this  precious  lover.  But  ah,  how  many  thousand  tears 
and  pains  that  love  of  his  has  cost  me  !  At  first  we  met  only  now  and 
then,  and  by  stealth,  at  some  appointed  place  ;  but  I  could  not  long 
endure  that  kind  of  life  :  in  his  presence  only  was  I  hapjiy,  wholly 
happy  !  Far  from  him,  my  eyes  were  never  dry,  my  jmlse  was  never 
calm.  Once  he  stayed  away  for  several  days  :  I  was  altogether  in 
despair  ;  I  ordered  out  my  carriage,  and  surprised  him  here.  He 
received  me  tenderly  ;  and  had  not  this  unlucky  quarrel  happened,  I 
should  have  led  a  heavenly  life  with  him.  But  since  the  time  when 
he  began  to  be  in  danger  and  m  pain,  I  shall  not  say  what  I  have 
suffered  :  at  this  moment  I  am  bitterly  reproaching  myself,  that  I 
could  leave  him  for  a  single  day. 

Wilhelm  was  proceeding  to  inquire  about  Theresa,  when  they 
reached  the  lawyer's  house.  This  gentleman  came  forward  to  the 
coach,  lamenting  woefully  that  Friiulein  Theresa  was  already  gone. 
He  invited  them  to  breakfast ;  signifying,  however,  that  the  lady 
might  be  overtaken  in  the  nearest  village.  They  determined  upon 
following  her  :  the  coachman  did  not  loiter  ;  they  had  soon  passed 
several  villages,  and  yet  come  up  with  nobody.     Lydia  now   gave 


334  MEI8TEB' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

orders  for  returning  ;  tlie  coachman  drove  along,  as  if  he  did  not 
understand  her.  As  she  insisted  with  redoubled_vehemence,  Wilhelm 
called  to  him,  and  gave  the  promised  token.  The  coachman  answered 
that  it  was  not  necessary  to  go  back  by  the  same  road  ;  he  knew  a 
shorter,  and  at  the  same  time  greatly  easier  one.  He  now  turned 
aside  across  a  wood,  and  over  large  commons.  At  last,  no  object  they 
could  recognize  appearing,  he  confessed  that,  unfortunately,  he  had 
lost  his  way  ;  declaring  at  the  same  time  that  he  would  soon  get  right 
again,  as  he  saw  a  little  town  before  him.  Night  came  on  ;  the  coach- 
man managed  so  discreetly  that  he  asked  everywhere,  and  nowhere 
waited  for  an  answer.  He  drove  along  all  night  :  Lydia  never  closed 
an  eye  ;  in  the  moonshine  she  was  constantly  detecting  similarities, 
which  as  constantly  turned  out  to  be  dissimilar.  In  the  morning, 
things  around  seemed  known  to  her,  and  but  more  strange  on  that 
account.  The  coach  drew  up  before  a  neat  little  country-house  ;  a 
young  lady  stepped  out,  and  opened  the  carriage  door.  Lydia  looked 
at  her  with  a  stare  of  wonder  ;  looked  round,  looked  at  her  again  ; 
and  fainted  in  the  arms  of  Wilhelm. 


CHAPTER  V. 


Wilhelm  was  conducted  to  a  little  uj)per  room  :  the  house  was 
new,  as  small  nearly  as  it  could  be,  and  extremely  orderly  and  clean. 
In  Theresa,  who  had  welcomed  him  and  Lydia  at  the  coach,  he  had 
not  found  his  Amazon  :  she  was  another  and  altogether  different 
woman.  Handsome,  and  but  of  middle  stature,  she  moved  about 
with  great  alertness  ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  her  clear,  blue,  open  eyes 
let  nothing  that  occurred  escape  them. 

She  entered  Wilhelm's  room,  inquiring  if  he  wanted  anything. 
"Pardon  me,"  said  she,  "  for  having  lodged  you  in  a  chamber  which 
tlie  smell  of  paint  still  renders  disagreeable  :  my  little  dwelling  is 
l)ut  just  made  ready  :  you  are  handseling  this  room,  which  is  ap- 
pointed for  my  guests.  Would  that  you  had  come  on  some  more 
pleasant  errand  !  Poor  Lydia  is  like  to  be  a  dull  companion  ;  in  other 
points,  also,  you  will  have  mucli  to  pardon.  My  cook  has  run  away 
from  me,  at  this  unseasonable  time,  and  a  serving-man  has  bruised 
his  hand.  The  case  might  happen  I  had  to  manage  everything 
myself  ;  and  if  it  were  so,  why  then  we  should  just  put  up  with  it. 
One  is  plagued  so  with  nobody  as  with  one's  servants  ;  none  of  them 
will  serve  j'ou,  scarcely  even  serve  himself." 

She  said  a  good  deal  more  on  different  matters ;  in  general  she 
seemed  to  like  speaking.  Wilhelm  inquired  for  Lydia ;  if  he  might 
not  see  her,  and  endeavor  to  excuse  liimself. 

"  It  will  have  no  effect  at  present,"  said  Theresa;  "time  excuses, 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  V.  325 

as  it  comforts.  Words,  in  both  cases,  are  of  little  effect.  Lydia  will 
not  see  you.  '  Keep  lum  from  my  sight,'  she  cried,  when  I  was 
leaving  her.  '  I  could  almost  despair  of  human  nature.  Such  an 
lionorable  countenance,  so  frank  a  manner,  and  this  secret  guile  ! ' 
Lothario  she  has  quite  forgiven  ;  in  a  letter  to  the  poor  girl  he 
declares  :  '  My  friends  persuaded  me,  my  fi'iends  compelled  me  ! ' 
Among  these  she  reckons  you,  and  she  condemns  you  with  the  rest." 

"  She  does  me  too  much  honor  in  so  blaming  me,"  said  Wilhelm  : 
"  I  have  no  pretension  to  the  friendship  of  that  noble  gentleman  ;  on 
this  occasion,  I  am  but  a  guiltless  instrument.  I  will  not  praise  what 
I  have  done  ;  it  is  enough  that  I  could  do  it.  It  concerned  the  health, 
it  concerned  the  life  of  a  man,  whom  I  value  more  than  any  one  1 
ever  knew  before.  O  what  a  man  is  he,  Friiulein  ;  and  what  men  are 
they  that  live  about  him  !  In  their  society  I,  for  the  first  time,  I  may 
well  say,  carried  on  a  conversation  ;  for  the  first  time,  was  the  inmost 
sense  of  my  words  returned  to  me,  more  rich,  more  full,  more  com- 
prehensive, from  another's  mouth  ;  what  I  had  been  groping  for, 
was  rendered  clear  to  me  ;  what  I  had  been  thinking,  I  was  taught  to 
see.  Unfortunately,  this  enjoyment  was  disturbed,  at  first  by  numer- 
ous anxieties  and  whims,  and  then  by  this  unpleasant  task.  I 
undertook  it  with  submission  ;  for  I  reckoned  it  my  duty,  even  though 
I  sacrificed  my  feelings,  to  comply  with  the  request  of  this  gifted 
company  of  men." 

While  he  spoke,  Theresa  had  been  looking  at  him  with  a  very 
friendly  air.  "0  how  sweet  is  it,  to  hear  one's  own  opinion  uttered 
by  a  stranger  tongue  !  We  are  never  properl_v  ourselves  until  another 
thinks  entirely  as  we  do.  My  own  opinion  of  Lothario  is  perfectly 
the  same  as  yours  :  it  is  not  every  one  tliat  does  him  justice  ;  and 
tlierefore  all  that  know  him  better  are  enthusiastic  in  esteem  of  him. 
The  painful  sentiment  that  mingles  with  the  memory  of  him  in  my 
heart,  cannot  liinder  me  from  thinking  of  him  daily."  A  sigh  heaved 
her  bosom  as  she  spoke  thus  ;  and  a  lovely  tear  glittered  in  her  right 
eye.  "  Think  not,"  continued  she,  "  that  I  am  so  weak,  so  easy  to  be 
moved.  It  is  but  the  eye  that  weeps.  There  was  a  little  wart  upon 
the  imder  eyelid  ;  they  have  happily  removed  it  ;  but  the  eye  has 
been  weak  ever  since  :  the  smallest  cause  brings  a  tear  into  it.  Here 
sat  the  little  wart  ;  you  cannot  see  a  vestige  of  it  now." 

He  saw  no  vestige  ;  but  he  saw  into  her  eye  ;  it  was  clear  as  crys- 
tal ;  he  almost  imagined  he  could  see  to  the  very  bottom  of  her 
soul. 

"We  have  now,"  said  she,  "pronounced  the  watchword  of  our 
friendship  ;  let  us  get  entirely  acquainted  as  fast  as  possible.  The 
history  of  every  person  paints  his  own  character.  I  will  tell  you 
what  my  life  has  been  :  do  you  too  place  a  little  trust  in  me  ;  and  let 
us  be  united  even  when  distance  parts  us.  The  world  is  so  waste  and 
empty,  when  we  figure  only  towns  and  hills  and  rivers  in  it  ;  but  to 
know  of  some  one  here  and  there  whom  we  accord  with,  who  is  living 


326  MEISTER'8  APFMENTICESHIP. 

on  with  us  even  in  silence,  tliis  makes  our  earthly  ball  a  peopled 
garden." 

!She  hastened  ofE ;  engaging  soon  to  take  him  out  to  walk.  Her 
presence  had  affected  him  agreeably  :  he  wished  to  be  informed  of 
her  relation  to  Lothario.  He  was  called  ;  she  came  to  meet  him  from 
her  room.  While  they  descended,  necessarily  one  by  one,  the  strait 
and  even  steepish  stairs,  she  said  :  "  All  this  might  have  been  larger 
and  grander,  had  I  chosen  to  accept  the  offers  of  your  generous  friend  : 
but  to  continue  worthy  of  him,  I  must  study  to  retain  the  qualities 
which  gave  me  merit  in  his  eyes. — Where  is  the  steward?"  asked 
she,  stepping  from  the  bottom  of  the  stairs.  "  You  must  not  think," 
continued  she,  "  that  I  am  rich  enough  to  need  a  steward  :  the  few 
acres  of  my  own  little  property  I  myself  can  manage  well  enough. 
The  steward  is  my  new  neighbor's  wlio  has  bought  a  fine  estate  beside 
us,  every  point  of  which  I  am  acquainted  with.  The  good  old  gentle- 
man is  lying  ill  of  gout ;  his  men  are  strangers  here  ;  I  willingly 
assist  in  settling  them." 

They  took  a  walk  through  fields,  meadows  and  some  orchards. 
Everywhere  Theresa  kept  instructing  the  steward  ;  nothing  so  minute 
but  she  could  give  account  of  it ;  and  Wilhelm  had  reason  to  wonder 
at  her  knowledge,  her  percision,  the  prompt  dexterity  with  which  she 
suggested  means  for  ends.  She  loitered  nowhere  ;  always  hastened  to 
the  leading  points;  and  thus  her  task  was  quickly  over.  "Salute 
your  master,"  said  she,  as  she  sent  away  the  man.  "  I  mean  to  visit 
him  as  soon  as  possible,  and  wish  him  a  complete  recovery. — There 
now,"  she  added  with  a  smile,  as  soon  as  he  was  gone,  "  I  might 
soon  be  rich  ;  my  good  neighbor,  I  believe,  would  not  be  disinclined 
to  offer  me  his  hand." 

"  The  old  man  with  the  gout  ?  "  cried  Wilhelm  :  "  I  know  not  how, 
at  your  years,  you  could  bring  yourself  to  make  so  desperate  a  deter- 
mination." "Nor  am  I  tempted  to  it!"  said  Theresa:  "Whoever 
can  administer  what  he  possesses  has  enough,  and  to  be  wealthy  is  a 
burdensome  affair,  unless  you  understand  it." 

Wilhelm  testified  his  admiration  at  her  skill  in  husbandry  concerns. 
"Decided  inclination,  early  opportunity,  external  impulse,  and  con- 
tinued occupation  in  a  useful  business,"  said  she,  "  make  many  things, 
which  were  at  first  far  harder,  possible  in  life.  When  you  have 
learned  what  causes  stimulated  me  in  this  pursuit,  you  will  cease  to 
wonder  at  the  talent  you  now  think  strange." 

On  returning  home,  she  sent  him  to  her  little  garden.  Here  he 
could  scarcely  turn  himself,  so  narrow  were  the  walks,  so  thickly  was 
it  sown  and  planted.  On  looking  over  to  the  court,  he  could  not 
help  smiling  :  the  firewood  was  lying  there,  as  accurately  sawed,  split 
and  piled,  as  if  it  had  been  part  of  the  building,  and  had  been  intended 
to  continue  permanently  there.  The  tubs  and  implements,  all  clean, 
were  standing  in  their  places  ;  the  house  was  j)ainted  wliite  and  red  ; 
it  was  really  pleasant  to  behold.     Whatever  can  be  done  by  handi- 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VL  827 

craft,  which  knows  not  beautiful  proportinns,  but  labors  for  conve 
nience,  cheerfulness  and  durability,  appeared  united  in  this  spot. 
They  served  him  up  dinner  in  his  own  room  ;  he  had  time  enough 
for  meditating.  Especially  it  struck  him,  that  he  should  have  got 
acquainted  with  another  person  of  so  interesting  a  character,  who  had 
been  so  closely  related  to  Lothario.  "  It  is  just,"  said  he  to  him.self, 
"  that  a  man  so  gifted  should  attract  round  him  gifted  women.  How 
far  the  influence  of  manliness  and  dignity  extends  !  Would  that 
others  did  not  come  so  woefully  short,  compared  with  him  !  Yes, 
confess  thy  fear.  When  thou  meetest  with  thj'  Amazon,  this  woman 
of  women,  in  spite  of  all  thy  hopes  and  dreaming,  thou  wilt  find  lier, 
in  the  end,  to  thy  humiliation  and  thy  shame, — his  bride." 


CHAPTER  VI. 


WiLHELM  had  passed  a  restless  afternoon,  not  altogther  without 
tedium  ;  when  towards  evening  his  door  opened,  and  a  handsome 
hunter- boy  stepped  forward  with  a  bow.  "  Shall  we  have  a  walk?" 
said  the  youth  ;  and  in  the  instant  ^^'ilhelm  recognized  Theresa  by 
her  lovely  eyes. 

"Pardon  me  this  masquerade,"  said  she;  "for  now,  alas,  it  is 
nothing  more.  But  as  I  am  going  to  tell  you  of  the  time  when  I  so 
enjoyed  the  world,  1  will  recall  those  days,  l)y  every  method,  to  my 
fancy.  Come  along  !  Even  the  place,  where  we  have  rested  so  often 
from  our  hunts  and  promenades,  shall  help  me." 

They  went  accordingly.  On  the  way,  Theresa  said  to  her  attend- 
ant :  "It  is  not  fair  that  I  alone  should  speak  :  you  already  know 
enough  of  me,  I  nothing  about  you.  Tell  me  in  the  meanwhile 
something  of  yourself,  that  I  may  gather  courage  to  submit  to  you 
my  history  and  situation."  "  Alas  ! "  said  Wilhelm,  "  I  have  nothing 
to" relate  but  error  on  the  back  of  error,  deviation  following  deviation  ; 
and  I  know  none  from  whom  I  would  more  gladly  hide  my  present 
and  my  past  embarrassments  than  from  yourself.  Your  look,  the 
scene  you  move  in,  your  whole  temperament  and  manner,  prove  to 
me  that  you  have  reason  to  rejoice  in  your  bygone  life  ;  that  you 
have  traveled  by  a  fair,  clear  path,  in  constant  progress  ;  that  you 
have  lost  no  time,  that  you  have  nothing  to  reproach  yourself  withal." 

Theresa  ansv>'ered  with  a  smile  :  "  Let  me  see  if  you  will  think  so, 
after  you  have  heard  my  history."  They  walked  along  :  among  some 
general  remarks,  Theresa  asked  him  :  "  Are  you  free?"  "  I  think  I 
am,"  said  he;  "and  yet  I  do  not  wish  it."  "  Good  !  "  said  she: 
"that  indicates  a  complicated  story;  you  also  have  something  to 
relate.'' 

Conversing  thus,  they  ascended  the  hill,  and  placed  theraselves'be 


328  MEISTEB  '8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

side  a  lofty  oak,  which  spread  its  shade  far  out  on  every  side. 
"Here,"  said  she,  "beneath  this  German  tree,  will  I  disclose  to  you 
the  history  of  a  German  maiden  :  listen  to  me  patiently. 

"My  father  was  a  wealthy  nobleman  of  this  province,  a  cheerful, 
clear-sighted,  active,  able  man  ;  a  tender  father,  an  upright  friend, 
an  excellent  economist.  I  knew  but  one  fault  in  him  ;  he  was  too 
compliant  to  a  wife  who  did  not  know  his  worth.  Alas,  that  I  should 
have  to  say  so  of  my  mother  !  Her  nature  was  the  opposite  of  his. 
She  was  quick  and  cliangef ul  ;  without  affection  either  for  her  home, 
or  for  me,  her  only  child  ;  extravagant,  but  beautiful,  sprightly,  full 
of  talent,  the  delight  of  a  circle  she  had  gathered  round  her.  Her 
society  in  truth  was  never  large  ;  nor  did  it  long  continue  the  same. 
It  consisted  principally  of  men  ;  for  no  woman  could  like  to  be  near 
her,  still  less  could  sJk'  endure  the  merit  or  the  praise  of  any  woman. 
I  resembled  my  father,  both  in  form  and  dispositions.  As  the  duck- 
ling, with  its  first  footsteps,  seeks  the  water  ;  so,  from  my  earliest 
youth,  the  kitchen,  the  store-room,  the  granai'ies,  the  fields,  were  my 
selected  element.  Cleanliness  and  order  in  the  house,  seemed,  even 
while  I  was  playing  in  it,  to  be  my  peculiar  instinct,  my  peculiar  ob- 
ject. This  tendency  gave  my  father  pleasure  ;  and  he  directed,  step 
by  step,  my  childish  endeavor  into  the  suitablest  employments.  On 
the  contrary,  my  mother  did  not  like  me,  and  she  never  for  a  moment 
hid  it. 

"I  waxed  in  stature  :  with  my  years,  increased  my  turn  for  occu- 
pation and  my  father's  love  to  me.  When  we  were  b}'  ourselves, 
when  walking  through  the  fields,  when  I  was  helping  to  examine  his 
accounts,  it  was  then  I  could  see  how  glad  he  was.  While  gazing  on 
his  eyes,  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been  looking  in  upon  myself  ;  for  it  was 
in  the  eyes  that  I  completely  resembled  him.  But  in  the  presence 
of  my  mother,  he  lost  this  energy,  this  aspect  ;  he  excused  me  mildly, 
when  she  blamed  me  unjustly  and  violently  ;  he  took  my  part,  not  as 
if  he  would  protect  me,  but  as  if  he  would  extenuate  the  demerit  of 
my  good  qualities.  To  none  of  her  caprices  did  he  set  himself  in  op- 
position. She  began  to  be  immensely  taken  with  a  passion  for  the 
stage  ;  a  theater  was  soon  got  up  ;  of  men  of  all  shapes  and  ages, 
crowding  to  display  themselves  along  with  her  upon  her  boards,  she 
had  abundance  ;  of  women,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  often  a 
scarcity.  Lydia,  a  pretty  girl,  who  had  been  brought  up  with  me, 
and  who  promised  from  the  first  to  be  extremely  beautiful,  had  to 
undertake  the  secondary  parts  ;  the  mothers  and  the  aunts  were  rep- 
resented by  an  ancient  chambermaid  ;  while  the  leading  heroines, 
lovers,  and  shepherdesses  of  every  kind,  were  seized  on  by  my  mother. 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  ridiculous  it  seemed  to  me,  to  see  the  people, 
every  one  of  whom  I  knew  full  well,  standing  on  their  scaffold,  and 
pretending,  after  they  had  dressed  themselves  in  other  clothes,  to  pass 
for  something  else  tlian  Avhat  they  were.  In  my  eyes  tlu^y  were  never 
anything  but  Lydia  and  my  motlier,  this  baron  and  that  secretary, 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VI.  329 

• 

whetlier  they  appeared  as  counts  aud  princes  or  as  peasants  ;  and  I 
could  not  understand  liow  they  meant  to  make  me  think  that  they 
were  sad  or  happy,  that  they  were  indifferent  or  in  love,  liberal  or 
avaricious,  when  I  well  knew  the  contrary  to  be  the  case.  Accord- 
ingly, I  very  seldom  stayed  among  the  audience  ;  I  always  snuffed 
their  candles,  that  I  might  not  be  entirely  without  employment;  I 
prepared  the  supper  ;  and  next  morning  before  they  rose  1  used  to 
have  their  wardrobe  all  sorted,  which  commonly,  the  night  before, 
they  had  lelt  in  a  chaotic  state. 

"  To  my  mother  this  activity  appeared  quite  proper  ;  but  her  love 
I  could  not  gain.  She  despised  me  ;  and  I  know  for  certain  that  she 
more  than  once  exclaimed  with  bitterness  :  '  If  the  mother  could  be 
as  uncertain  as  the  father,  you  would  scarcely  take  this  housemaid 
for  my  daughter  ! '  Such  treatment,  I  confess,  at  length  entirely 
estranged  me  from  her  :  I  viewed  her  conduct  as  the  conduct  of  a  per- 
son unconnected  with  me  ;  and  being  used  to  watch  our  servants  like 
a  falcon  (for  this,  be  it  said  in  passing,  is  the  ground  of  all  true 
housekeeping),  the  proceedings  of  my  mother  and  her  friends,  at  the 
same  time,  naturally  forced  themselves  upon  my  observation.  It  was 
easy  to  perceive  that  she  did  not  look  on  all  the  men  alike  :  I  gave 
sharper  heed  ;  and  soon  found  out  that  Lydia  was  her  confidant,  and 
had  lierself,  b}-  this  opportunity,  become  acquainted  with  a  passion, 
which  from  her  earliest  youth  she  had  so  often  represented.  I  was 
aware  of  all  their  meetings  ;  but  I  held  ray  tongue  ;  hinting  nothing 
to  my  father,  whom  I  was  afraid  of  troubling.  At  last,  however,  I 
was  obliged  to  speak.  Many  of  their  enterprises  could  not  be  ac- 
complished without  corrupting  the  servants.  These  now  began  to 
grow  refractory  ;  they  despised  my  father's  regulations,  disregarded 
my  commands.  The  disorders  which  arose  from  this  I  could  not  toler- 
ate ;  r  discovered  all,  complained  of  all  to  my  father. 

"  He  listened  to  me  calmly.  '  Good  girl  I '  replied  he  with  a  smile  ; 
'  I  know  it  all  :  be  quiet,  bear  it  patiently  ;  for  it  is  on  thy  account 
alone  that  I  endure  it.' 

"  I  was  not  quiet,  I  had  not  patience.  I  in  secret  blamed  my 
father  ;  for  I  did  not  think  that  any  reason  should  induce  him  to  en- 
dure such  things.  I  called  for  regularity  from  all  the  servants  ;  I 
was  bent  on  driving  matters  to  extremity. 

"My  mother  had  been  rich  before  her  marriage  ;  yet  she  squan- 
dered more  than  she  had  a  right  to  ;  and  this,  as  I  observed,  occa- 
sioned many  conferences  between  my  parents.  For  a  long  time,  the 
evil  was  not  helped  ;  till  at  last  the  passions  of  my  mother  brought 
it  to  a  head. 

"  Her  first  gallant  became  unfaithful  in  a  glaring  manner  :  the 
house,  the  neighborhood,  her  whole  condition  grew  offensive  to  her. 
She  insisted  on  removing  to  a  different  estate  ;  there  she  was  too 
solitary  :  she  insisted  on  removing  to  the  town  ;  there  she  felt  her- 
self eclipsed  among  the  crowd.     Of  much  that  passed  between  my 


330  MEISTER'S  APPBENTIOESHIP. 

father  and  lier  I  know  nothing  :  however,  he  at  last  determined, 
under  stipulations  which  I  did  not  learn,  to  consent  that  she  should 
take  a  journey,  which  she  had  been  meditating,  to  the  south  of 
France. 

"  We  were  now  free  ;  we  lived  as  if  in  heaven  ;  I  do  believe,  my 
father  could  not  be  a  loser,  had  he  purchased  her  absence  by  a  con- 
siderable sum.  All  our  useless  domestics  were  dismissed  ;  and  for- 
tune seemed  to  smile  ou  our  undertakings  :  we  had  some  extremely 
prosperous  years  ;  all  things  succeeded  to  our  wish.  But,  alas,  this 
pleasing  state  was  not  of  long  continuance  ;  altogether  unexpectedly 
my  father  had  a  shock  of  palsy  ;  it  lamed  his  right  side,  and  deprived 
him  of  the  proper  use  of  speech.  We  had  to  guess  at  everything 
that  he  required  ;  for  he  never  could  pronounce  the  word  that  he  in- 
tended. There  were  times  when  this  was  dreadfully  afflicting  to  us  : 
he  would  require  expressly  to  be  left  alone  with  me  ;  with  earnest 
gestures  he  would  signify  that  every  one  should  go  away  ;  and  when 
we  saw  ourselves  alone,  he  could  not  speak  the  word  he  meant.  His 
impatience  mounted  to  the  highest  pitch  :  his  situation  touched  me 
to  the  inmost  heart.  Thus  much  seemed  certain  :  he  had  something 
which  he  wished  to  tell  me,  which  especially  concerned  my  interest. 
What  longing  did  I  feel  to  knov.'  it  !  At  other  times,  I  could  discover 
all  things  in  his  eyes  ;  but  now  it  was  in  vain.  Even  his  eyes  no 
longer  spoke.  Only  this  was  clear  :  he  wanted  nothing,  he  desired 
nothing  :  he  was  striving  to  discover  something  to  me  ;  which  un- 
happily I  did  not  learn.  His  malady  revisited  him  :  he  grew  en- 
tirely inactive,  incapable  of  motion,  and  a  short  time  afterwards  he 
died. 

"  I  know  not  how  it  got  rooted  in  my  thoughts  that  somewhere  he 
had  hid  a  treasure,  which  he  wished  at  death  to  leave  me  rather. than 
my  mother  :  I  searched  about  for  traces  of  it  while  he  lived,  but  I 
could  meet  with  none  ;  at  his  death  a  seal  was  put  on  everything.  I 
wrote  to  my  mother,  offering  to  continue  in  the  house,  and  manage 
for  her  :  she  refused,  and  I  was  obliged  to  leave  the  place.  A  mutual 
testament  was  now  produced  ;  it  gave  my  mother  the  possession  and 
the  use  of  all ;  and  I  was  left,  at  least  throughout  her  life,  dependent 
on  her.  It  was  now  that  I  conceived  I  rightly  understood  my  father's 
beckoning  :  I  pitied  him  for  having  been  so  weak  ;  he  had  let  himself 
be  forced  to  do  unjustly  to  me  even  after  he  was  dead.  Certain  of 
my  friends  maintained,  that  it  was  little  better  than  if  he  had  disin- 
herited me  :  they  called  upon  me  to  attack  the  will  by  law  ;  but  this 
I  never  could  resolve  on  doing.  I  reverenced  my  father's  memory  too 
much  ;  I  trusted  in  destiny  ;  I  trusted  in  myself. 

"  There  was  a  lady  in  the  neighborhood  possessed  of  large  property, 
with  whom  I  had  always  been  on  good  terms  :  she  gladly  received 
me ;  I  engaged  to  superintend  her  household,  and  ere  long  the  task 
grew  very  easy  to  me.  She  lived  regularly,  she  loved  order  in  every- 
thing ;  and  I  faithfully  assisted  her  in  struggling  with  her  steward. 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VI.  331 

and  domestics.  I  am  neither  of  a  niggardly  nor  grudging  temper  ; 
but  we  women  are  disposed  to  insist,  more  earnestly  than  men,  that 
nothing  shall  be  wasted.  Embezzlement  of  all  sorts  is  intolerable 
to  us  :  we  require  that  each  enjoy  exactly  in  so  far  as  right  entitles 
him. 

"  Here  I  was  in  my  element  once  more  ;  I  mourned  my  father's 
death  in  silence.  My  protectress  was  content  with  me  :  one  small 
circumstance  alone  disturbed  my  peace.  L3'dia  returned  :  my  mother 
had  been  harsh  enough  to  cast  the  poor  girl  off,  after  having 
altogether  spoiled  her.  Lydia  had  learned  with  her  mistress  to  con- 
sider passions  as  her  occupation  ;  slie  was  wont  to  curb  herself 
in  nothing.  On  her  unexpected  reappearance,  the  lady  whom  I 
lived  with  took  her  in  ;  she  wished  to  help  me,  but  could  train  her- 
self to  nothing. 

"About  this  time,  the  relatives  and  future  heirs  of  my  protectress 
often  visited  the  house,  to  recreate  themselves  with  hunting.  Lothario 
was  frequently  among  them  :  it  was  not  long  till  I  had  noticed, 
though  without  the  smallest  reference  to  myself,  how  far  he  was 
superior  to  the  rest.  He  was  courteous  towards  all  ;  and  Lydia 
seemed  ere  long  to  have  attracted  his  attention  to  her.  Constantly 
engaged  in  something,  I  was  seldom  with  the  company  ;  while  he 
was  there  I  did  not  talk  so  much  as  usual  ;  for  I  will  confess  it,  lively 
conversation,  from  of  old,  had  been  to  me  the  finest  seasoning  of 
existence.  With  my  father  I  was  wont  to  talk  of  everything  that 
happened.  What  you  do  not  speak  of,  you  will  seldom  accurately 
think  of.  No  uian  had  I  ever  heard  with  greater  pleasure  than  I  did 
Lothario,  when  he  told  us  of  his  travels  and  campaigns.  The  world 
appeared  to  lie  before  him  clear  and  open,  as  to  me  the  district  was  in 
which  I  lived  and  managed.  We  were  not  entertained  with  marvel- 
ous personal  adventures,  the  extravagant  half-truths  of  a  shallow 
traveler,  who  is  always  painting  out  himself,  and  not  the  coun- 
try he  has  undertaken  to  describe.  Lothario  did  not  tell  us  his 
adventures  ;  he  led  us  to  the  place  itself.  I  have  seldom  felt  so  pure 
a  satisfaction. 

"  But  still  higher  was  my  pleasure,  when  I  heard  him  talk  one 
evening,  about  women.  The  subject  happened  to  be  introduced  : 
some  ladies  of  the  neighborhood  had  come  to  see  us  ;  and  were  speak- 
ing, in  the  common  style,  about  the  cultivation  of  the  female  mind. 
Our  sex,  they  said,  was  treated  unjustly  ;  every  sort  of  higher  educa- 
tion men  insisted  on  retaining  for  themselves  :  they  admitted  us  to  no 
science,  they  required  us  either  to  be  dolls  or  family  drudges.  To  all 
this  Lothario  said  not  much  :  but  when  the  party  was  a  little  thinned, 
he  gave  us  his  opinion  more  explicitly.  '  It  is  very  strange,'  cried  he, 
'that  men  are  blamed  for  their  proceeding  here:  they  have  placed 
woman  on  the  highest  station  she  is  capable  of  occup3'ing.  And  where 
is  there  any  station  higher  than  the  ordering  of  a  house  ?  While  the 
li\isband  has  to   vex  himself  with  outward  matters,   while  he  ha.s 


832  MEISTHJR  '8  A  PPRENTICESHIP. 

wealth  to  gatlier  and  secure,  while  perhaps  he  takes  part  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  state,  and  everywhere  depends  on  circumstances  ; 
ruling  nothing,  I  may  say,  while  he  conceives  that  he  is  luling  much  ; 
compelled  to  be  but  politic  where  he  would  willingly  be  reasonable, 
to  dissemble  where  he  would  be  open,  to  be  false  where  he  would  be 
upright ;  while  thus,  for  the  sake  of  an  object  which  he  never  reaches, 
he  must  every  moment  sacrifice  the  first  of  objects,  hannony  with 
himself, — a  reasonable  housewife  is  actually  governing  in  the  interior 
of  her  family  ;  has  the  comfort  and  activity  of  every  person  in  it  to 
provide  for,  and  make  possible.  What  is  the  highest  happiness  of 
mortals,  if  not  to  execute  what  we  consider  right  and  good  ;  to  be 
really  masters  of  the  means  conducive  to  our  aims  ?  And  where 
should  or  can  our  nearest  aims  be,  but  in  the  interior  of  our  home? 
All  those  indispensable,  and  still  to  be  renewed  supplies,  where  do  we 
expect,  do  we  require  to  find  them,  if  not  in  the  place  where  we  rise 
and  where  we  go  to  sleep,  where  kitchen  and  cellar,  and  every  species 
of  accommodation  for  oui'selves  and  ours  is  to  be  always  leady  ?  What 
unvarying  activity  is  needed  to  conduct  this  constantly  recurring  series 
in  unbroken  living  order  !  Hov,'  few  are  the  men,  to  whom  it  is  given  to 
return  regularly  like  a  star,  to  command  their  day  as  they  command 
their  night  ;  to  form  for  themselves  their  household  instruments,  to 
sow  and  to  reap,  to  gain  and  to  expend,  and  to  travel  round  their 
circle  with  perpetual  success  and  peace  and  love  !  It  is  when  a  woman 
has  attained  this  inward  mastery,  that  she  truly  makes  the  husband 
whom  she  loves  a  master  ;  her  attention  will  acquire  i:ll  sorts  of  knowl- 
edge ;  her  activity  will  turn  them  all  to  profit.  Thus  is  she  depend- 
ent upon  no  one  ;  and  she  procures  her  husband  genuine  independence, 
that  which  is  interior  and  domestic  :  whatever  he  possesses,  he  beholds 
secured  ;  what  he  earns,  well  employed  ;  and  thus  he  can  direct  his 
mind  to  lofty  objects,  and  if  fortune  favors,  he  may  act  in  the  state 
the  same  character  which  so  well  becomes  his  wife  at  home.' 

"  He  then  described  to  us  the  kind  of  wife  he  wished.  I  reddened  ; 
for  he  was  describing  me  as  I  looked  and  lived.  I  silently  enjoyed 
my  triumph  ;  and  the  more,  as  I  perceived,  from  all  the  circumstan- 
ces, that  he  had  not  meant  me  individually,  that  indeed  he  did  not 
know  me.  I  cannot  recollect  a  more  delightful  feeling  in  my  life 
than  this,  when  a  man  whom  I  so  highly  valued  gave  the  preference, 
not  to  my  person,  but  to  my  inmost  nature.  What  a  recompense  did 
I  consider  it  !     What  encouragement  did  it  afford  nu'  ! 

' '  So  soon  as  they  were  gone,  my  worthy  benefactress,  with  a  smile, 
observed  to  mc  :  '  Pity  that  men  often  think  and  speak  of  what  the}' 
wiJl  never  execute,  else  here  were  a  special  match,  the  exact  thing 
for  my  dear  Theresa  ! '  I  made  sport  of  her  remark  ;  and  added,  that 
indeed  men's  understanding  gave  its  vote  for  household  wives  ;  Imt 
that  their  heart  and  imagination  longed  for  other  qualities  ;  and  that 
we  household  people  could  not  stand  a  rivalry  with  beautiful  and 
lovely  women.     This  was  spoken  for  the  ear  of  Lydia  ;  she  did  not 


BOOK  Vll.  CHAPTER  VI  333 

hide  from  us  that  Lothario  had  made  a  deep  impression  on  her  heart  ; 
and  in  reality,  he  seemed  at  each  new  visit  to  grow  more  and  more 
attentive  to  her.  She  was  poor  and  not  of  rank  ;  she  could  not  think 
of  marriage  ;  but  she  was  unable  to  resist  the  dear  delight  of  charm- 
ing and  of  being  charmed.  I  had  never  loved,  nor  did  I  love  at 
present ;  but  though  it  was  unspeakably  agreeable  to  see  in  what  light 
my  turn  of  mind  was  viewed,  how  high  it  was  ranked  by  such  a  man, 
I  will  confess  I  was  still  not  altogether  satisfied.  I  now  wished  that 
he  should  be  acquainted  with  me,  and  should  take  a  personal  interest 
in  me.  This  wish  arose,  without  the  smallest  settled  thought  of  any- 
thing that  could  result  from  it. 

"  The  greatest  service  I  did  my  benefactress,  was  in  bringing  into 
order  the  extensive  forests  which  belonged  to  her.  In  this  precious 
property,  wliose  value  time  and  circumstances  were  continually  in- 
creasing, matters  still  went  on  according  to  the  old  routine  :  without 
regularity,  without  plan  ;  no  end  to  theft  and  fraud.  Many  hills 
were  standing  bare  ;  an  equal  growth  was  nowhere  to  be  found  but 
in  the  oldest  cuttings.  I  personally  visited  the  whole  of  them,  with 
an  experienced  forester.  I  got  the  woods  correctly  measured  ;  I  set 
men  to  hew,  to  sow,  to  plant  ;  in  a  short  time,  all  things  were  in  pro- 
gress. That  I  might  mount  more  readily  on  horseback,  and  also  walk 
on  foot  with  less  obstruction,  I  had  a  suit  of  men's  clothes  made  for 
me  ;  I  was  present  in  many  places,  I  was  feared  in  all. 

"  Hearing  that  our  young  friends  with  Lothario  were  purposing  to 
have  another  hunt,  it  came  into  my  head,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life, 
to  make  a  figure  ;  or  that  I  may  not  do  myself  injustice,  to  pass  in  the 
eyes  of  this  noble  gentleman  for  what  I  was.  I  put  on  my  men's 
clothes,  took  my  gun  upon  my  shoulder,  and  went  forward  with 
our  hunters,  to  await  the  party  on  our  marches.  They  came  ;  Lotha- 
rio did  not  know  me  :  a  nephew  of  the  lady's  introduced  me  to  him  as 
a  clever  forester  ;  joked  about  my  youth,  and  carried  on  his  jesting  in 
ray  praise,  till  at  last  Lothario  recognized  me.  The  nephew  seconded 
my  project,  as  if  we  had  concocted  it  together.  He  circumstantially 
and  gratefully  described  what  I  had  done  for  the  estates  of  his  aunt, 
and  consequently  for  himself. 

"Lothario  listened  with  attention;  he  talked  with  me;  inquired 
concerning  all  particulars  of  the  estates  and  district.  I  of  course 
was  glad  to  have  such  an  opportunity  of  showing  him  my  knowl- 
edge :  I  stood  my  ordeal  very  well  ;  I  submitted  certain  projects  of 
improvement  to  him  ;  which  he  sanctioned,  telling  me  of  similar  ex- 
amples, and  strengthening  my  arguments  by  the  connection  which 
he  gave  them.  My  satisfaction  grew  more  perfect  every  moment. 
Happily,  however,  I  merely  wished  that  he  should  be  acquainted 
with  me,  not  that  he  .should  love  me.  We  came  hoaie  ;  and  I  ob- 
served more  clearly  than  before,  that  the  attention  he  showed  to 
Lydia  seemed  expressive  of  a  secret  inclination.  I  had  reached  my 
object ;  yet  I  was  not  at  rest  :  from  that  day  he  showed  a  true  respect 


HU  MEISTER' 8  APPRENTICESHIP.   . 

for  me,  a  fine  trust  in  me  ;  in  company  Le  usually  spoke  to  me,  asked 
my  opinion,  and  appeared  to  be  persuaded  tliat,  in  household  matters, 
nothing  was  unknown  to  me.  His  sympathy  excited  me  extremely  : 
even  when  the  conversation  was  of  general  finance  and  political 
economy,  he  used  to  lead  me  to  take  part  in  it  ;  and  in  his  absence, 
I  endeavored  to  acquire  more  knowledge  of  our  province,  nay,  of  all 
tlie  empire.  The  task  was  easy  for  me  :  it  was  but  repeating  on  the 
great  scale  what  I  knew  so  accurately  on  the  small. 

"From  this  period  he  visited  our  house  oftener.  -We  talked,  I 
may  say,  of  everything  :  yet  in  some  degree  our  conversation  ahvays 
in  the  end  grew  economical,  if  oven  but  in  a  secondary  sense.  What 
immense  effects  a  man,  by  the  continuous  application  of  his  powers, 
his  time,  his  money,  even  by  means  which  seem  but  small,  may 
bring  about,  was  frequently  and  largely  spoken  of. 

"  I  did  not  withstand  the  tendency  which  drew  me  towards  him  : 
and,  alas,  I  felt  too  soon  how  deep,  how  cordial,  how  pure  and 
genuine  was  my  love,  as  I  believed  it  more  and  more  apparent  that 
Lydia  and  not  myself  was  the  occasion  of  these  visits.  She,  at 
least,  was  most  vividly  persuaded  so  ;  she  made  me  her  confidant ; 
and  this,  again,  in  some  degree,  consoled  me.  For  in  truth,  what  she 
explained  so  much  to  her  advantage,  I  reckoned  nowise  of  import- 
ance ;  there  was  not  a  trace  of  any  serious  lasting  union  being  medi- 
tated ;  but  tlie  more  distinctly  did  I  see  the  wish  of  the  impassioned 
girl  to  be  his  at  any  price. 

"  Thus  did  matters  stand,  when  the  lady  of  the  house  surprised  me 
with  an  unexpected  message.  '  Lothario,'  said  slie,  '  offers  you  his 
hand,  and  desires  through  life  to  have  you  ever  at  his  side.'  She 
enlarged  upon  my  qualities,  and  told  me,  what  I  liked  sufficiently  to 
hear,  that  in  me  Lothario  was  persuaded  he  had  found  the  peTson 
whom  he  had  so  long  been  seeking  for. 

"The  height  of  happiness  was  now  attained  for  me;  my  hand 
was  asked  by  a  man  for  whom  I  had  the  greatest  value  ;  beside 
whom  and  along  with  whom  I  might  expect  a  full,  expanded,  free 
and  profitable  employment  of  my  inborn  tendency,  of  my  talent 
perfected  by  practice.  The  sum  of  my  existence  seemed  to  have  en- 
larged itself  into  infinitude.  I  gave  my  consent  ;  he  himself  came, 
and  spoke  ^^ath  me  in  private  ;  he  held  out  his  hand  to  me  ;  he 
looked  into  my  eyes,  he  clasped  me  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  a  kiss 
upon  my  lips.  It  was  the  first  and  the  last.  He  confided  to  me  all 
his  circumstances  ;  told  me  how  much  his  American  campaign  had 
cost  him,  what  debts  he  had  accumulated  on  his  property  :  that,  on 
this  score,  he  had  in  some  measure  quarreled  with  his  grand-uncle  ; 
that  the  worthy  gentleman  intended  to  relieve  him,  though  truly  in 
his  own  peculiar  way,  being  minded  to  provide  him  with  a  rich  wife, 
whereas  a  man  of  sense  would  choose  a  household  wife  at  all  events  ; 
that,  however,  by  liis  .sister's  influence,  he  hoped  his  noble  relative 
would  be  persuaded.     He  set  before  me  the  condition  of  his  fortune, 


BOOK  Vn.  CHAPTER  VI  335 

Ilia  plans,  his  prospects,   and   requested  my  co-operation.     Till  his 
uncle  should  consent,  our  promise  was  to  be  a  secret. 

"  Scarcely  was  he  gone,  when  Lydia  asked  me,  whether  he  had 
spoken  of  her.  I  answered  no  ;  and  tired  her  with  a  long  detail  of 
economical  affairs.  She  M-as  restless,  out  of  humor  ;  and  his  con- 
duct, when  he  came  again,  did  not  improve  her  situation. 

"  But  the  sun,  I  see,  is  bending  to  the  place  of  rest.  Well  for  you, 
my  friend  !  You  would  otherwise  have  had  to  hear  this  story,  which 
I  often  enough  go  over  by  myself,  in  all  its  most  minute  particulars. 
Let  me  hasten  :  we  are  coming  to  an  epoch,  on  which  it  is  not  good 
to  linger. 

"By  Lothario  I  was  made  acquainted  with  liis  noble  sister  ;  and 
she,  at  a  convenient  time,  contrived  to  introduce  me  to  the  uncle.  I 
gained  the  old  man  ;  he  consented  to  our  wishes  ;  and  I  returned, 
■with  happy  tidings,  to  my  benefactress.  The  affair  was  now  no 
secret  in  the  house  :  Lydia  heard  of  it ;  she  thought  the  thing  impos- 
sible. When  she  could  no  longer  doubt  of  it,  she  vanished  all  at 
once  :  we  knew  not  whither  she  had  gone. 

"  Our  marriage-day  was  coining  near:  I  had  often  asked  him  for 
his  portrait  ;  just  as  he  v.as  going  off,  I  reminded  him  that  he  had 
promised  it.  He  said  :  '  You  have  never  given  me  the  case  you  want 
to  have  it  fitted  into.'  This  was  true:  I  had  got  a  present  from  a 
female  friend,  on  which  I  set  no  ordinary  value.  Her  name,  worked 
from  her  own  hair,  was  fastened  on  the  outer  glass  ;  within  there  was 
a  vacant  piece  of  ivory,  on  Avhich  her  portrait  was  to  have  been 
painted,  when  a  sudden  death  snatched  her  from  me.  Lothario's 
love  had  cheered  me  at  the  time  her  death  lay  heavj'  on  my  spirits  ; 
and  1  wished  to  have  the  void,  which  she  had  left  me  in  her  present, 
filled  by  the  picture  of  my  friend. 

"  I  ran  to  my  chamber  ;  fetched  my  jewel-box,  and  opened  it  in  his 
presence.  Scarcely  had  he  looked  into  it,  when  he  noticed  a  medalion 
with  the  portrait  of  a  lady.  He  took  it  in  his  hand,  considered  it 
attentively,  and  asked  me  hastily  whose  face  it  was.  '  My  mother's,' 
answered  L  '  I  could  have  sworn,'  said  he,  'that  it  was  the  portrait 
of  a  Madame  Saint  Alban,  whom  I  met  some  years  ago  in  Switzer- 
land.' '  It  is  the  same,'  replied  I,  smiling  ;  '  and  so  you  have  unwit- 
tingly become  acquainted  with  your  stepmother.  Saint  Alban  is  the 
name  my  mother  has  assumed  for  traveling  with  :  she  passes  under 
it  in  France  at  present.' 

"  '  I  am  the  miserablcst  man  alive  ! '  exclaimed  he,  as  he  threw  the 
portrait  back  into  the  box,  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  hur- 
ried from  the  room.  He  sprang  on  horseback  ;  I  ran  to  the  balcony, 
and  called  out  after  him  ;  he  turned,  waved  his  hand  to  me,  went 
speedily  away — and  I  haA'e  never  seen  him  more." 

The  sun  went  down  :  Theresa  gazed  with  unaverted  looks  upon  the 
splendor  ;  and  both  her  fine  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

Theresa  spoke  not  ;  she  laid  her  hand  upon  her  new  friend's  hands  ; 


336  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

lie  kissed  it  witli  emotion  :  she  dried  her  tears,  and  rose.  "Let  us 
return,  and  see  that  all  is  right,"  said  she. 

The  conversation  was  not  lively  by  the  way.  They  entered  the 
garden  door,  and  noticed  Lydia  sitting  on  a  bench  :  she  rose,  with- 
drew before  them,  and  wallied  in.  She  had  a  paper  in  her  hand  ;  two 
little  girls  were  by  her.  "I  see,"  observed  Theresa,  "she  is  still 
carrying  her  only  comfort,  Lothario's  letter,  wdth  her.  He  promises 
that  she  shall  live  with  him  again,  so  soon  as  he  is  well  :  he  begs  of 
lier  till  then  to  stay  in  peace  with  me.  On  these  words  she  hangs ; 
with  these  lines  she  solaces  herself  ;  but  with  his  friends  she  is 
extremely  angry. " 

Meanwhile  the  two  children  had  approached.  They  courtesied  to 
Theresa,  and  gave  her  an  account  of  all  that  had  occurred  while  she 
was  absent.  "  You  see  here  another  part  of  my  employment,"  said 
Theresa.  "Lothario's  sister  and  1  have  made  a  league  :  we  educate 
some  little  ones  in  common  ;  such  as  promise  to  be  lively,  serviceable 
housewives  I  take  charge  of ;  she  of  such  as  show  a  finer  and  more 
quiet  talent ;  it  is  right  to  provide  for  the  happiness  of  future  hus- 
bands, both  in  household  and  in  intellectual  matters.  When  you 
become  acquainted  with  my  noble  friend,  a  new  era  in  your  life  will 
open.  Her  beauty,  her  goodness,  make  her  worthy  of  the  reverence 
of  the  world."  Wilhelm  did  not  venture  to  confess  that,  unhappily, 
the  lovely  countess  was  already  known  to  him  ;  that  his  transient  con- 
nection with  her  would  occasion  him  perpetual  sorrow.  He  was  well 
pleased  that  Theresa  let  the  conversation  drop  ;  that  some  business 
called  for  her  within.  He  was  now  alone  :  the  intelligence  which  he 
had  just  received,  of  the  young  and  lovely  countess  being  driven  to 
replace,  by  deeds  of  benevolence,  her  own  lost  comfort,  made  him 
very  sad  ;  he  felt  that  with  her  it  was  bat  a  need  of  self-oblivion,  an 
attempt  to  supply,  by  the  hopes  of  happiness  to  others,  the  want  of  a 
cheerful  enjoyment  of  existence  in  herself.  He  thought  Theresa 
happy,  since  even  in  that  unexpected  melancholy  alteration  which 
had  taken  place  in  her  prospects,  there  was  no  alteration  needed  in 
herself  "How  fortunate  beyond  all  others,"  cried  he,  "is  the  man 
who,  in  order  to  adjust  himself  to  fate,  is  not  required  to  cast  away 
his  whole  preceding  life  ! " 

Theresa  came  into  his  room,  and  begged  pardon  for  disturbing 
him.  "  My  whole  library,"  said  she,  "is  in  the  wall-press  here; 
they  are  rather  books  which  I  do  not  throw  aside,  than  which  I  have 
taken  up.  Lydia  wants  a  pious  book  :  there  are  one  or  two  of  that 
sort  among  them.  Persons  who  throughout  the  whole  twelve  months 
{\re  worldly,  think  it  necessary  to  be  godly  at  a  time  of  straits  :  all 
moral  and  religious  matters  they  regard  as  physic,  which  is  to  be 
taken,  with  aversion,  when  they  are  unwell  :  in  a  clergyman,  a 
moralist,  they  see  nothing  but  a  doctor,  whom  they  cannot  soon 
enough  get  rid  of.  Now,  1  confess,  I  look  upon  religion  as  a  kind 
of  diet,  which  can  only  be  so  when  1  niake  a  constant  practice  of  it, 


BOOK  VIL  CHAPTER  VT.  337 

when  througliout  tlie  whole  twelve  months  I  never  lose  it  out  of 
sight. " 

She  searched  among  the  books  ;  she  found  some  edifying  works,  as 
they  are  called.  "  It  was  of  my  mother,"  said  Theresa,  "that  poor 
Lydia  learned  to  have  recourse  to  books  like  these.  While  her 
gallant  continued  faithful,  plays  and  novels  were  her  life  ;  his  de- 
parture brought  religious  writings  once  more  into  credit.  I,  for  my 
share,  cannot  understand,"  continued  she,  "how  men  have  made 
themselves  believe  that  (iod  speaks  to  us  through  books  and 
histories.  The  man,  to  whom  the  universe  does  not  reveal  directly 
what  relation  it  has  to  him  ;  whose  heart  does  not  tell  him  what 
he  owes  to  himself  and  others, — that  man  will  scarcely  learn  it  out 
of  books  ;  which  generally  do  little  more  than  give  our  errors 
names. " 

She  left  our  friend  alone  :  he  passed  his  evening  in  examining  the 
little  library  ;  it  had,  in  truth,  been  gathered  quite  at  random. 

Theresa,  for  the  few  days  Wilhelm  spent  with  her,  continued  still 
the  same  :  she  related  to  him,  at  different  times,  the  consequences  of 
that  singular  incident  with  great  minuteness.  Day  and  hour,  place 
and  name,  were  present  to  her  memory  :  we  shall  here  compress  into 
a  word  or  two,  so  much  of  it  as  will  be  necessary  for  the  informa- 
tion of  our  readers. 

The  reason  of  Lothario's  quick  departure  was  unhappily  too  easy 
to  explain.  He  had  met  Theresa's  mother  on  her  journey  :  her 
charms  attracted  him  ;  she  was  no  niggard  of  them  ;  and  this  luck- 
less transitory  aberration  came  at  length  to  shut  him  out  from  being 
united  to  a  lady,  whom  nature  seemed  to  have  expressly  made  for 
him.  As  for  Theresa,  she  continued  in  the  pure  circle  of  her  duties. 
They  learned  that  Lydia  had  been  living  in  the  neighborhood  in 
secret.  She  was  happy  that  the  marriage,  though  for  unknown 
causes,  had  not  been  completed.  She  endeavored  to  renew  her  in- 
timacy with  Lothario  :  and  more,  as  it  seemed,  out  of  desperation 
than  affection,  by  surprise  than  with  consideration,  from  tedium  than 
of  purpose,  he  had  met  her  wishes. 

Theresa  was  quiet  on  the  sabject  ;  she  made  no  pretensions 
farther  to  him  ;  and  if  he  had  even  been  her  husband,  she  Avould 
probably  have  had  sufficient  spirit  to  endure  a  matter  of  this  kind, 
if  it  had  not  troubled  her  domestic  order  :  at  least  she  often  used  to 
say,  that  a  wife,  who  properly  conducted  her  economy,  should  take 
no  umbrage  at  such  little  fancies  of  her  husband,  but  be  always  cer- 
tain that  he  would  return. 

Ere  long,  Theresa's  mother  had  deranged  her  fortune  :  the  losses 
fell  upon  the  daughter,  whose  share  of  tlie  effects,  in  consequence, 
was  small.  The  old  lady,  who  had  been  Theresa's  benefactress, 
died  ;  leaving  her  a  little  propert}-  in  land,  and  a  handsome  sum  by 
way  of  legacy.  Theresa  soon  contrived  to  make  herself  at  home  in 
this  new  narrow  circle.    Lothario  offered  her  a  better  property,  Jarno 


338  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

endeavoring  to  negotiate  the  business  :  but  she  refused  it.  "I  will 
show,"  said  she,  "in  this  little  that  I  deserved  to  share  the  great 
with  hmi  ;  but  I  keep  this  before  me,  that,  should  accident  embarrass 
me,  on  my  own  account  or  that  of  others,  I  will  betake  myself  with- 
out the  smallest  hesitation  to  my  generous  friend." 

There  is  nothing  less  liable  to  be  concealed  and  unemployed  than 
well-directed  practical  activity.  Scarcely  had  she  settled  in  her  little 
property,  when  iier  acquaintance  and  advice  began  to  be  desired  by 
many  of  her  neighbors  ;  and  the  proprietor  of  the  adjacent  lands 
gave  her  plainly  enough  to  understand,  that  it  depended  on  herself 
alone,  whether  she  would  take  his  hand,  and  be  heiress  of  the 
greater  part  of  his  estates.  She  had  already  mentioned  the  matter 
to  our  friend  ;  she  often  jested  with  him  about  marriages,  suitable  and 
unsuitable. 

"Nothing,"  said  she  once,  "gives  a  greater  loose  to  people's 
tongues,  than  when  a  marriage  happens,  which  they  can  denominate 
unsuitable  :  and  yet  the  unsuitable  are  far  more  common  than  the 
suitable  ;  for,  alas,  with  most  marriages,  it  is  not  long  till  things 
assume  a  very  piteous  look.  The  confusion  of  ranks  by  marriage  can 
be  called  unsuitable,  only  when  the  one  party  is  unable  to  participate 
in  the  manner  of  existence  which  is  native,  habitual,  and  which  at 
length  grows  absolutely  necessary  to  the  other.  The  different  classes 
have  different  ways  of  living,  which  they  cannot  change  or  communi- 
cate to  one  another  ;  and  this  is  the  reason  why  connections  such  as 
these,  in  general,  were  better  not  formed.  Yet  exceptions,  and  ex- 
ceptions of  the  happiest  kind,  are  possible.  Thus  too,  the  marriage 
of  a  young  woman  with  a  man  advanced  in  life  is  generally  unsuit- 
able ;  yet  I  have  seen  some  such  turn  out  extremely  well.  For  me,  I 
know  but  of  one  kind  of  marriage  that  would  be  entirely  unsuitable  : 
that  in  which  I  should  be  called  upon  to  make  a  show,  and  manage 
ceremonies  :  I  had  rather  give  my  hand  to  the  son  of  any  honest 
farmer  in  the  neighborhood. " 

Wilhelm  at  length  made  ready  for  returning.  He  requested  of 
Theresa  to  obtain  for  him  a  parting  word  with  Lydia.  The  impas- 
sioned girl  at  last  consented  :  he  said  some  kindly  things  to  her  ;  to 
which  she  answered  :  "  The  first  burst  of  anguish  I  have  conquered. 
Lothario  will  be  ever  dear  to  me  ;  but  for  those  friends  of  his,  I  know 
them  ;  and  it  grieves  me  that  they  are  a.bout  him.  The  abbe,  for  a 
whim's  sake,  could  leave  a  person  in  extreme  need,  or  even  plunge 
one  into  it  ;  the  doctor  would  have  all  things  go  on  like  clock-work  ; 
Jarno  has  no  heart ;  and  you — at  least  no  force  of  character  !  Just 
go  on  ;  let  these  three  people  use  you  as  their  tool  ;  they  will  have 
many  an  execution  to  commit  to  you.  For  a  long  time,  as  1  know 
well,  my  presence  has  been  hateful  to  them  ;  I  had  not  found  out 
their  secret,  but  I  had  observed  that  they  had  one.  Why  these  bolted 
rooms,  these  strange  ]iassagps  ?  Why  can  no  one  ever  reacli  the  cen- 
tral tower  ?     Why  did  they  banish  me,  whenever  they  could,  to  my 


BOOK  riL  CHAPTER  VII.  339 

own  chamber?  1  will  confess,  jealousy  at  first  incited  me  to  tliese 
discoveries  ;  I  feared  some  lucky  rival  miglit  be  hid  there.  I  have 
now  laid  aside  that  suspicion  ;  I  am  -well  convinced  that  Lothario 
loves  me,  that  he  means  honorably  by  me  ;  but  I  am  quite  as  well 
convinced  that  his  false  and  artful  friends  betray  him.  If  you  would 
really  do  him  service  ;  if  you  would  ever  be  forgiven  for  the  injury 
which  I  have  suffered  from  you,  free  liim  from  the  hands  of  these  men. 
But  what  am  I  expecting  !  Give  this  letter  to  him  :  repeat  what  it 
contains  ;  that  I  will  love  him  forever,  that  I  depend  upon  his  word. 
Ah  ! "  cried  she,  rising  and  throwing  herself  with  tears  upon  Theresa's 
neck  ;  "he  is  surrounded  by  my  foes  ;  they  will  endeavor  to  per- 
suade him  that  I  have  sacrificed  nothing  for  his  sake.  O  !  Lothario 
may  well  believe  that  he  is  worthy  of  any  sacrifice,  without  needing 
to  be  grateful  for  it." 

Wilhebn's  parting  with  Theresa  was  more  cheerful  :  she  wished 
they  might  soon  meet  again.  "  Me  you  wholly  know,"  said  she  :  "  I 
alone  have  talked  while  we  have  been  together.  It  will  be  your  duty, 
next  time,  to  repay  my  candor." 

During  his  return,  he  kept  contemplating  this  new  and  bright  phe- 
nomenon, with  the  liveliest  recollection.  What  confidence  had  she 
inspired  him  with  !  He  thought  of  Mignon  and  Felix  ;  and  how 
happy  they  might  be  if  under  her  direction  ;  then  he  thought  of 
himself  ;  and  felt  what  pleasure  it  would  be  to  live  beside  a  being  so 
entirely  serene  and  clear.  As  he  approached  Lothario's  castle,  he 
observed,  with  more  than  usual  interest,  the  central  tower  and  the 
many  passages  and  side  buildings  ;  he  resolved  to  question  Jarno  or 
the  abb6  on  the  subject,  by  the  earliest  opportunity. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


On  arriving  at  the  castle,  Wilhelm  found  its  noble  owner  in  the 
way  of  full  recovery  ;  the  doctor  and  the  abb6  had  gone  off ;  Jarno 
alone  was  there.  It  was  not  long  till  the  patient  now  and  then  could 
ride  ;  sometimes  by  himself  ;  sometimes  with  his  friends.  His  con- 
versation was  at  once  courteous  and  earnest,  instructive  and  enliven- 
ing ;  you  could  often  notice  in  it  traces  of  a  tender  sensibility,  although 
he  strove  to  hide  it,  and  almost  seemed  to  blame  it,  when  in  spite  of 
him  it  came  to  view. 

One  evening  while  at  table  he  was  silent,  though  his  look  was  very 
cheerful. 

"To-day,"  said  Jarno,  "you  have  met  with  an  adventure  ;  and  a 
pleasing'one?" 

"  I  give  you  credit  for  your  penetration  !  "  said  Lothario.  "Yes,  I 
have  met  vsath  a  very  pleasing  adventure.     At  another  time,  perhaps 


840  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTIGESmP. 

I  should  not  have  considered  it  so  charming  as  to-day,  when  it  came 
upon  me  so  attractively.  Towards  night,  I  rode  out  beyond  the  river, 
through  the  hamlets,  by  a  path  which  I  had  often  visited  in  former 
years.  My  corporeal  sulJerings  must  have  reduced  me  more  than  I  sup- 
posed ;  I  felt  weak  ;  but  as  my  strength  was  re-awakening,  I  was  as  it 
were  new-born.  All  objects  seemed  to  wear  the  hues  they  had  in  earlier 
times  ;  all  looked  graceful,  lovely,  charming,  as  they  have  not  looked 
to  me  for  many  years.  I  easily  observed  that  it  was  mere  debility  ; 
yet  I  continued  to  enjoy  it ;  I  rode  softly  onwards,  and  could  now 
conceive  how  men  may  grow  to  like  diseases,  which  attune  us  to 
those  sweet  emotions.  You  know,  perhaps,  what  used  of  old  so  fre- 
quently to  lead  me  that  way  ?  " 

"If  I  mistake  not,"  answered  Jarno,  "it  Avas  a  little  love  concern 
you  were  engaged  in  with  a  farmer's  daughter. " 

"It  might  be  called  a  great  one,"  said  Lothario  ;  "  for  we  loved 
each  other  deeply,  seriously  and  for  a  long  time.  To-day,  it  happened, 
everytliing  combined  to  represent  before  me  in  its  liveliest  color  the 
earliest  season  of  our  love.  The  boys  were  again  shaking  maybugs 
from  the  trees  ;  the  ashen  grove  had  not  grown  larger  since  the  day 
I  saw  lier  first.  It  was  now  long  since  I  had  met  with  Margaret.  She 
is  married  at  a  distance  ;  and  I  had  heard  by  chance,  that  she  was 
come  with  her  children,  some  weeks  ago,  to  pay  a  visit  to  her  father." 

"  This  ride,  then,  was  not  altogether  accidental'?" 

"I  will  not  deny,"  replied  Lothario,  "that  I  wished  to  meet  her. 
On  coming  near  the  house,  I  saw  her  father  sitting  at  the  door  ;  a 
child  of  probably  a  year  old  was  standing  by  him.  As  I  approached, 
a  female  gave  a  hasty  look  from  an  upper  window  ;  and  a  minute 
afterwards,  I  heard  some  person  tripping  downstairs.  I  thought 
surely  it  was  she  ;  and  I  will  confess,  I  was  flattering  myself  that  she 
liad  recognized  me,  and  was  hastening  to  meet  me.  But  what  was 
my  surprise  and  disappointment,  when  she  bounded  from  the  door; 
seized  the  child,  to  which  the  horses  had  come  pretty  close,, and  took 
it  iu  !  It  gave  me  a  painful  twinge  ;  my  vanity,  however,  was  a  little 
solaced,  when  I  thought  I  saw  a  tint  of  redness  on  her  neck,  and  on 
the  ear,  which  was  uncovered. 

"  I  drew  up,  and  spoke  a  little  with  the  father,  glancing  sideways, 
in  the  meantime,  over  all  the  windows,  to  observe  if  she  would  not 
appear  at  some  of  them  ;  but  no  trace  of  her  was  visible.  Ask  I 
would  not  ;  so  I  rode  away.  My  displeasure  was  a  little  mollified  by 
wonder  :  though  I  had  not  seen  the  face,  it  appeared  to  me  that  she 
was  scarcely  clianged  ;  and  ten  years  are  a  pretty  space  !  Nay,  she 
looked  even  younger,  quite  as  slim,  as  light  of  foot  ;  her  neck,  if  pos- 
sible, was  lovelier  than  before  ;  her  cheeks  as  quick  at  blushing  ;  yet 
she  was  the  mother  of  six  children,  perhaps  of  more.  This  appari- 
tion suited  the  enchantment  which  surrounded  me  so  well,  that  I  rode 
along  with  feelings  grown  still  younger  ;  and  I  did  not  turn  till  I  was 
at  the  forest,  when  the  sun  was  going  down.     Strongly  as  the  falling 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VIL  341 

dew,  and  the  prescription  of  our  doctor,  called  upon  me  to  proceed 
direct  homewards,  I  could  not  help  again  going  round  by  the  farm- 
house. 1  observed  a  woman  wallcing  up  and  down  the  garden,  which 
is  fenced  by  a  light  hedge.  I  rode  along  the  footpath  to  it  ;  and  found 
myself  at  no  great  distance  from  the  person  whom  I  wanted. 

"  Tliough  the  evening  sun  was  glancing  in  my  eyes,  I  saw  that  she 
was  busy  with  the  hedge,  which  only  slightly  covered  her.  I  thought 
I  recognized  my  mistress.  On  ct)raing  up,  I  halted,  not  without  a 
palpitation  at  the  lieart.  Some  high  twigs  of  wild  roses,  wliich  a 
soft  air  was  blowing  to  and  fro,  made  her  figure  indistinct  to  me.  I 
spoke  to  her,  asked  her  how  she  was.  She  answered  in  an  under- 
tone, 'Quite  well.'  In  the  meantime  I" perceived  a  child  behind  the 
hedge,  engaged  in  plucking  roses,  and  I  took  the  opportunity  of  ask- 
ing where  her  other  children  were.  'It  is  not  my  child,'  said  she  : 
'  that  were  rather  early  ! '  And  at  this  moment,  it  liappened  that  the 
twigs  were  blown  aside,  and  her  face  could  be  distinctly  seen.  I 
knew  not  what  to  make  of  the  affair.  It  was  my  mistress,  and  it  was 
not.  Almost  younger,  almost  lovelier  than  she  used  to  be  ten  years 
before.  'Are  you  not  the  fanner's  daughter,  then?'  inquired  I,  half 
confused.      '  No,'  said  she,  '  I  am  her  cousin.' 

"  '  You  resemble  one  another  wonderfully,'  added  I. 

"  'Yes,  so  says  every  one  that  knew  her  half-a-score  of  years  ago.' 

"I  continued  putting  various  questions  to  her;  my  mistake  was 
pleasant  to  me,  even  after  1  had  found  it  out.  I  could  not  leave  this 
living  image  of  bygone  blessedness,  that  stood  before  me.  The  child 
meanwhile  had  gone  away  ;  it  had  wandered  to  the  pond  in  search 
of  flowers.     She  took  her  leave,  and  hastened  after  it. 

"I  had  now,  however,  learned  that  my  former  love  was  really  in 
her  father's  house:  while  riding  forward,  I  employed  myself  in 
guessing  whether  it  had  been  her  cousin  or  she  that  had  secured  the 
child  from  harm.  I  more  than  once,  in  thought,  repeated  all  the  cir- 
ciimstances  of  the  incident ;  I  can  remember  few  things  that  have 
affected  me  more  gratefully.  But  I  feel  that  I  am  still  unwell  ;  we 
must  ask  the  doctor  to  deliver  us  from  tlie  remains  of  this  pathetic 
humor." 

With  confidential  narratives  of  pretty  love  adventures,  it  often  hap- 
pens as  with  gliost  stories  ;  when  the  first  is  told,  the  others  follow 
of  themselves. 

Our  little  party,  in  recalling  other  times,  found  numerous  passages 
of  this  description.  Lothario  had  the  most  to  tell.  Jarno's  liistories 
were  all  of  one  peculiar  character  :  what  Wilhelm  could  disclose  we 
already  know.  He  was  apprehensive  they  might  mention  his  adven- 
ture with  the  ^countess  ;  but  it  was  not  hinted  at,  not  even  in  the 
remotest  manner. 

"It  is  true,"  observed  Lothario,  "there  can  scarcely  any  feeling  in 
the  world  be  more  agreeable  than  when  the  heart,  after  a  pause  of 
indifference,  again  opens  to  love  for  some  new  object ;  yet  I  would 


342  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

forever  have  renounced  that  happiness,  had  fate  been  pleased  to  unite 
me  with  Theresa.  We  are  not  always  youths  ;  we  ought  not  always 
to  be  children.  To  the  man  who  knows  the  world,  who  understands 
what  he  should  do  in  it,  what  lie  should  hope  from  it,  nothing  can  be 
more  desirable  than  meeting  with  a  w'lU'  who  will  everywhere  co- 
operate with  him,  who  will  everywhere  prepare  his  way  for  him  ; 
whose  diligence  takes  up  what  his  must  leave  ;  whose  occupation 
spreads  itself  on  every  side,  w^liile  his  must  travel  forward  on  its  sin- 
gle path.  What  a  heaven  had  I  figured  for  myself  beside  Tlieresa  ! 
Not  the  heaven  of  an  enthusiastic  bliss,  but  of  a  sure  life  on  eartli ; 
order  in  prosperity,  courage  in  adversity,  care  for  the  smallest,  and  a 
spirit  capable  of  comprehending  and  managing  the  greatest.  0  !  1 
saw  in  her  the  qualities  which,  when  developed,  make  such  women 
as  we  find  in  history  ;  whose  excellence  appears  to  us  far  preferable 
to  that  of  men  ;  this  clearness  of  view  ;  this  expertncss  in  all  emer- 
gencies ;  this  sureness  in  details,  which  brings  the  whole  so  accurately 
out,  although  they  never  seem  to  think  of  it.  You  maj'  well  forgive 
me,"  added  he,  and  turned  to  Wilhelm  with  a  smile,  "that  I  forsook 
Aurelia  for  Theresa  :  with  the  one  I  could  expect  a  calm  and  cheerful 
life,  with  the  other  not  a  happy  hour." 

"I  will  confess,"  said  Wiliielm,  "that  in  coming  hither,  I  had  no 
small  anger  in  my  heart  against  you  ;  that  I  proposed  to  censure  with 
severity  your  conduct  to  Aurelia." 

"It  was  really  censurable,''  said  Lothario.  "I  should  not  have 
exchanged  my  friendship  for  her  with  the  sentiment  of  love  ;  I  should 
not,  in  place  of  the  respect  which  she  deserved,  have  intruded  an 
attachment  she  was  neither  calculated  to  excite  nor  to  maintain. 
Alas  !  she  was  not  lovely  when  she  loved  ;  the  greatest  misery  that 
can  befall  a  woman." 

"  Well,  it  is  past  !  "  said  Wilhelm.  "  We  cannot  always  shun  the 
things  we  blame  ;  in  spite  of  us,  our  feelings  and  our  actions  soTue- 
times  strangely  swerve  from  their  natural  and  right  direction  ;  yet 
there  are  certain  duties  which  we  should  never  lose  sight  of.  Peace 
be  to  the  ashes  of  our  friend  !  Without  censuring  ourselves  or  her, 
let  us,  with  sympathizing  hearts,  strew  flowers  upon  her  grave.  But 
at  the  grave  in  which  ihe  hapless  mother  sleeps,  let  me  ask  why  you 
acknowledge  not  the  child  ;  a  son  whom  any  father  might  rejoice  in, 
and  whom  you  appear  entirely  to  overlook  ?  With  your  pure  and 
tender  nature,  how  can  you  altogether  cast  away  the  instinct  of  a 
parent  ?  All  this  while,  you  have  not  spent  one  syllable  upon  that 
precious  creature,  of  whose  attractions  T  could  say  so  much." 

"  Whom  do  you  speak  of  V  "  asked  Lothario.  "  I  do  not  understand 
you." 

"  Of  whom  but  of  your  son,  Aurelia's  son,  the  lovely^hild,  to  whose 
good  fortune  there  is  nothing  wanting  but  that  a  tender  father  should 
acknowledge  and  receive  him." 

"You  nustake,  my  friend,"  exclaimed  Lothario.     "Aurelia  never 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VII.  343 

had  a  sou,  at  least  by  me  ;  I  know  of  no  child,  or  I  would  with  joy 
acknowledge  it ;  and  even  in  the  present  case  I  will  gladly  look  upon 
the  little  creature  as  a  relic  of  her,  and  take  charge  of  educating  it. 
But  did  she  ever  give  you  to  believe  that  the  boy  was  hers — was 
mine '? " 

"  I  cannot  recollect  that  I  ever  heard  a  word  from  her  expressly  on 
the  subject ;  but  we  took  it  up  so,  and  I  never  for  a  moment  doubted 
it." 

"  I  can  give  you  something  like  a  clue  to  this  perplexity,"  said 
Jarno.  "  An  old  woman,  Avhom  you  must  have  noticed  often,  gave 
Aurelia  the  child  :  she  accepted  it  with  passion,  hoping  to  alleviate 
her  sorrows  by  its  presence  ;  and,  in  truth,  it  gave  her  many  a  com- 
fortable hovir. " 

The  discovery  awoke  anxieties  in  Wilhelm  ;  he  thought  of  his 
dear  Mignon  and  his  beautiful  Felix  with  the  liveliest  distinctness. 
He  expressed  his  wish  to  remove  theni  both  from  the  state  in  which 
they  were. 

"  We  shall  soon  arrange  it,"  said  Lothario.  "  The  little  girl  may 
be  committed  to  Theresa  ;  she  cannot  be  in  better  hands.  As  for 
the  boy,  I  think  you  should  yourself  take  charge  of  him  :  what  in  us 
the  women  leave  uncultivated,  children  cultivate,  when  we  retain 
them  near  us." 

"  But  first,  I  think,"  said  Jamo,  "you  will  once  for  all  renounce 
the  stage,  as  you  have  no  talent  for  it." 

Our  friend  was  struck  :  he  had  to  curb  himself,  for  Jarno's  harsh 
sentence  had  not  a  little  wounded  his  self-love.  "If  you  convince 
me  of  that,"  replied  he,  forcing  a  smile,  "  yon.  will  do  me  a  service  ; 
though  it  is  but  a  mournful  service  to  rouse  one  from  a  pleasing 
dream." 

"Without  enlarging  on  the  subject,"  answered  Jarno,  "I  could 
merely  wish  you  would  go  and  fetch  the  children.  The  rest  will 
come  in  course." 

"  I  am  ready,"  answered  Wilhelm  :  "  I  am  restless,  and  curious  to 
see  if  I  can  get  no  farther  knowledge  of  the  boy  :  I  long  to  see  the 
little  girl,  who  has  attached  herself  so  strangely  to  me." 

It  was  agreed  that  he  should  lose  no  time  in  setting  out.  Next 
day,  he  had  prepared  himself  ;  his  horse  was  saddled  :  he  only 
waited  for  Lothario,  to  take  leave  of  him.  AX  the  dinner  hour,  they 
went  as  usual  to  table,  not  waiting  for  the  master  of  the  house.  He 
did  not  come  till  late  ;  and  then  sat  down  by  them. 

"  I  could  bet,"'  said  Jarno,  "  that  to-day  you  have  again  been  mak- 
ing trial  of  your  tenderness  of  heart ;  you  have  not  been  able  to 
withstand  the  curiosity  to  see  your  quondam  love." 

"  Guessed  !  "  replied  Lothario. 

"  Let  us  hear,"  said  Jarno,  "how  it  went  :   I  long  to  know." 

"  I  confess,"  replied  Lothario,  "the  affair  lay  nearer  my  heart 
than  it  reasonably  ought  ;  so  I  formed  the  resolution  of  again  riding 


3-44  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

out,  and  actually  seeing  the  person,  whose  renewed  young  image 
had  affected  me  with  such  a  pleasing  illusion.  I  alighted  at  some 
distance  from  the  house,  and  sent  the  horses  to  a  side,  that  the  chil- 
dren, who  were  playing  at  the  door,  might  not  be  disturbed.  I  en- 
tered the  house  ;  by  chance  she  met  me  just  within  the  threshold  ; 
it  was  herself  ;  and  I  recognized  her,  notwithstanding  the  striking 
change.  She  had  grown  stouter,  and  seemed  to  be  larger :  her 
gracefulness  was  shaded  by  a  look  of  staidness  ;  her  vivacity  had 
passed  into  a  calm  reflectiveness.  Her  head,  which  she  once  bore  so 
airily  and  freely,  dropped  a  little  ;  slight  furrows  had  been  traced 
upon  her  brow. 

"  She  cast  down  her  eyes  on  seeing  me  ;  but  no  blush  announced 
any  inward  movement  of  the  heart.  I  held  out  my  hand  to  her,  she 
gave  me  hers  :  I  inquired  about  her  husl)and,  he  was  absent ;  about 
her  children,  she  stepped  out  and  called  them  ;  all  came  in  and 
gathered  round  her.  Nothing  is  more  charming  than  to  see  a  mother 
with  a  child  upon  her  arm  ;  nothing  is  more  reverend  than  a  mother 
among  many  children.  That  1  might  say  something,  I  asked  the 
name  of  the  youngest.  She  desired  me  to  walk  in,  and  see  her 
father:  I  agreed  ;  she  introduced  me  to  the  room,  whei'e  everything 
was  standing  almost  just  as  I  liad  left  it  ;  and  what  seemed  stranger 
still,  the  fair  cousin,  her  living  image,  was  sitting  on  the  very  seat 
behind  the  spinning-wheel,  where  I  had  found  my  love  so  often  in 
the  self-same  form.  A  little  girl,  the  very  figure  of  her  mother, 
had  come  after  us  ;  and  thus  I  stood  in  the  most  curious  scene,  be- 
tween the  future  and  the  past,  as  in  a  grove  of  oranges,  where, 
within  a  little  circle,  ^(^wers  and  fruits  are  living,  in  successive 
stages  of  their  growth,  beside  each  other.  The  cousin  went  away  to 
fetch  us  some  refresliment  ;  I  gave  the  woman  I  had  loved  so  much 
my  hand,  and  said  to  her  :  'I  feel  a  true  joy  in  seeing  you  again.' 
'  You  are  very  good  to  say  so,'  answered  she  ;  '  but  I  also  can  assure 
you  I  feel  the  highest  joy.  How  often  have  I  wished  to  see  you 
once  more  in  my  life  !  I  have  wished  it  in  moments,  which  I  re- 
garded as  my  last.'  She  said  this  with  a  settled  voice,  without 
appearance  of  emotion,  with  that  natural  air  which  of  old  delighted 
me  so  much.  The  cousin  returned  ;  the  father  with  her  ;  and  I 
leave  you  to  conceive  with  what  feelings  I  remained,  and  with  what 
I  came  away." 


BOOK  VIL  CHAPTER  VIII.  845 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


In  his  journey  to  tlie  town,  our  friend  was  thinking  of  the  lovely 
women  whom  he  knew,  or  had  heard  of  :  their  curious  fortunes, 
which  contained  so  little  happiness,  were  present  to  him  with  a  sad 
distinctness.  "  Ah  !"  cried  he,  "  jjoor  Mariana!  What  shall  I  yet 
learn  of  thee  ?  And  thou  noble  Amazon,  glorious  protecting  spirit, 
to  wiiom  I  owe  so  much,  whom  I  every  wliere  expect  to  meet,  and  no- 
where see,  in  what  mournful  circumstances  may  I  find  thee,  shouldst 
thou  again  appear  before  me  !  " 

On  his  arrival  in  the  town,  there  was  not  one  of  his  acquaintances 
at  home  ;  he  hastened  to  the  theater  ;  he  supposed  they  would  be 
rehearsing.  Here,  however,  all  was  still  ;  the  house  seemed  empty  ; 
one  little  door  alone  was  open.  Passing  through  it  to  the  stage,  he 
found  Aurelia's  ancient  serving-maid,  employed  in  sewing  linen  for  a 
new  decoration  :  there  was  barely  liglit  enough  to  let  her  work.  Fe- 
lix and  Mignon  were  sitting  hy  her  on  the  floor  :  they  had  a  book 
between  them  ;  and  while  Mignon  read  aloud,  Felix  was  repeating  all 
the  words,  as  if  he  too  knew  his  letters,  as  if  he  too  could  read. 

The  children  started  up  and  ran  to  iiim  ;  he  embraced  them  with 
the  tenderest  feelings,  and  brought  them  closer  to  the  woman.  "  Art 
thou  the  person, '■■  said  he  to  her,  with  an  earnest  voice,  "  from  whom 
Aurelia  received  this  child?"  She  looked  up  from  her  work,  and 
turned  her  face  to  him  ;  he  saw  her  in  full  light  ;  he  started  back  in 
terror  ;  it  was  old  Barbara. 

"  Where  is  Mariana  ?  "  cried  he. 

"Far  from  here,"  replied  the  crone. 

"And  Felix ?" 

"  Is  the  son  of  that  unhappy,  and  too  true  and  tender-hearted  girl ! 
May  you  never  feel  what  you  have  made  us  suffer  !  May  the  treasure 
which  I  now  deliver  you  make  you  as  happy  as  he  made  us  wretched  ! " 

She  arose  to  go  away  ;  Wilhelm  held  her  fast.  "  I  mean  not  to 
escape  you,"  said  she  ;  "  let  me  fetch  a  paper  that  will  make  you  glad 
and  sorrowful." 

She  retired  ;  and  Wilhelm  gazed  upon  the  child  with  a  painful  joy  : 
he  durst  not  reckon  him  his  own.  "  He  is  thine  !  "  cried  Mignon  ; 
"  he  is  thine  !  "  and  pressed  the  child  to  Wilhelm's  knee. 

Barbara  came  back,  and  handed  him  a  letter.  "  Here  are  Mariana's 
last  words,"  said  she. 

' '  She  is  dead  !  "  cried  he. 

"  Dead,"  said  the  old  woman.   "  I  wish  to  spare  you  all  reproaches." 

Astonished  and  confounded,  Wilhelm  broke  up  the  letter  ;  but 
scarcely  had  he  read  the  first  words  of  it,  when  a  bitter  grief  took 
hold  of  him  ;  he  let  the  letter  fall  ;  and  sank  upon  a  seat.     ISIignon 


846  MEISTER'IS  APPBENTIGESSIP. 

hurried  to  him,  trying  to  console  him.  In  the  meantime,  Felix  had 
picked  up  the  letter  ;  he  teased  his  pla_ymate  till  she  yielded,  till  she 
knelt  beside  him,  and  read  it  over.  Felix  repeated  the  words,  and 
Wilhelm  was  compelled  to  hear  them  twice.  "  If  this  sheet  should 
ever  reach  thee,  then  lament  thy  ill-starred  friend.  Thy  love  has 
caused  her  death.  The  boy,  whose  birth  I  survive  but  a  few  days,  is 
thine  :  I  die  faithful  to  thee,  much  as  appearances  may  be  against 
me  :  with  thee  I  lost  everything  that  bound  me  to  life.  I  die  content  ; 
for  they  have  assured  me  that  the  child  is  healthy  and  will  live. 
Listen  to  old  Barbara  ;  forgive  her  :  farewell,  and  forget  me  not." 

What  a  painful,  and  yet  to  his  comfort,  half-enigmatic  letter  !  Its 
contents  pierced  through  his  heart,  as  the  children,  stuttering  and 
stammering,  pronounced  and  repeated  them. 

"  There  you  have  it  now  ! "  said  the  crone,  not  waiting  till  he  had 
recovered.  ' '  Thank  Heaven  that  having  lost  so  true  a  love,  you  have 
still  so  fine  a  child  remaining.  Your  grief  will  be  unequaled,  when 
you  learn  how  the  poor  good  girl  stood  faithful  to  you  to  the  end  ; 
how  miserable  she  became,  and  what  she  sacrificed  for  your  sake." 

"  Let  me  drain  the  cup  of  sorrow  and  joy  at  once  !  "  cried  Wilhelm. 
"  Convince  me,  even  persuade  me  that  she  was  a  good  girl,  that  she 
deserved  respect  as  well  as  love  ;  then  leave  me  to  my  grief  for  her ' 
irreparable  loss." 

"  It  is  not  yet  time,"  said  Barbara  ;  "  I  have  work  to  do,  and  I  would 
not  we  were  seen  together.  Let  it  be  a  secret  that  Felix  is  your  son  ; 
I  should  have  too  much  abuse  to  suffer  from  the  company,  for  having 
formerly  deceived  them.  Mignon  will  not  betray  us  ;  she  is  good 
and  close." 

"I  have  known  it  long,  and  I  said  nothing,"  answered  Mignon. 

"  How  is  it  possible  ?  "  cried  Barbara. 

■■'  Whence  ?  "cried  Wilhelm. 

"The  spirit  told  it  me." 

' '  Where  ?    Where  ?  " 

"  In  the  vault,  when  the  old  man  drew  his  knife,  it  called  to  me  : 
'  Bring  his  father,'  and  I  thought  it  must  be  thou." 

"  Who  called  to  thee  ?  " 

"  I  know  not ;  in  my  heart,  in  my  head,  I  was  terrified  ;  I  trembled, 
I  prayed,  then  it  called,  and  I  understood  it." 

Wilhelm  pressed  her  to  his  heart  ;  recommended  Felix  to  her,  and 
retired.  He  ha.d  not  observed  till  then  that  she  was  grown  much 
paler  and  thinner  than  when  he  left  her.  Madam  Melina  was  the 
first  acquaintance  he  met  :  she  received  him  iu  the  friendliest  manner. 
"  0,  that  you  might  find  everything  among  us  as  you  wished  !  "  ex- 
claimed she. 

"  I  doubt  it,"  answered  Wilhelm  ;  "  I  do  not  expect  it.  Confess 
that  they  have  taken  all  their  measures  to  dispense  with  me." 

"  Why  would  you  go  away  ?"  replied  his  friend. 

"  We  cannot  soon  enough,  convince  oui'selves,"  said  he,  '•  how  very 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VIII.  347 

simply  we  may  be  dispensed  with  in  the  world.  What  important  per- 
sonages we  conceive  ourselves  to  be  !  We  think  that  it  is  we  alone  that 
animate  the  circle  that  we  move  in  ;  that,  in  our  absence,  life,  nourish- 
ment and  breath  will  make  a  general  pause  ;  and,  alas,  the  void  which 
occurs  is  scarcely  remarked,  so  soon  is  it  filled  up  again  ;  nay,  it  is 
often  but  tlie  place,  if  not  for  something  better,  at  least  for  soniething 
more  agreeable." 

"  And  the  sorrow.s  of  our  friends  we  are  not  to  take  into  account  ?" 

"  For  our  friends,  too,  it  is  well,  when  they  soon  recover  their  com- 
posure, when  they  say  each  to  himself  :  There  where  thou  art,  there 
where  thou  remainest,  accomplish  what  thou  canst  ;  be  busy,  be 
courteous,  and  let  the  present  scene  delight  thee." 

On  a  narrower  inquiry,  he  found  what  he  had  looked  for  ;  the 
opera  had  been  set  up,  and  was  exclusively  attracting  the  attention 
of  the  public.  His  parts  had  in  the  meanwhile  been  distributed  be- 
tween Horatio  and  Laertes  ;  and  both  of  them  were  in  the  habit  of 
eliciting  from  the  spectators  far  more  liberal  applause  than  he  had 
ever  been  able  to  obtain. 

Laertes  entered,  and  Madam  Melina  cried  :  "  Look  you  here  at  this 
lucky  fellow  :  he  is  soon  to  be  a  capitalist,  or  Heaven  knows  what  !  " 
Wilhelm,  in  embracing  him,  discovered  that  his  coat  was  superfine  : 
the  rest  of  his  apparel  was  simple,  but  of  the  very  best  materials. 

"  Solve  me  the  riddle  !  "  cried  our  friend. 

"  You  are  still  in  time  to  learn,"  replied  Laertes,  "  that  my  running 
to  and  fro  is  now  about  to  be  repaid  :  that  a  partner  in  a  large  com- 
mercial house  is  turning  to  advantage  my  acquirements  from  books 
of  observation,  and  allowing  me  a  share  with  him.  I  would  give 
something  could  I  purchase  back  my  confidence  in  women  ;  there  is  a 
pretty  niece  in  the  house  ;  and  I  see  well  enough  that,  if  I  pleased, 
I  might  soon  be  a  made  man." 

"You  have  not  heard,"  said  Fran  Melina,  "that  a  marriage  has 
already  taken  place  among  ourselves  ?  Serlo  is  actually  wedded  to 
tlie  fair  Ehnira  ;  her  father  would  not  tolerate  their  secret  correspon- 
dence." 

They  talked,  in  this  manner,  about  many  things  that  had  occurred 
while  he  was  absent  :  nor  was  it  diflBcult  for  him  to  observe,  that, 
according  to  the  present  temper  and  constitution  of  the  company,  his 
dismissal  had  already  taken  place. 

He  impatiently  expected  Barbara,  who  had  appointed  him  to  wait 
for  her  far  in  the  night.  She  was  to  come  when  all  were  sleeping  ; 
she  required  as  many  preparations  as  if  she  had  been  the  youngest 
maiden  gliding  in  to  her  beloved.  Meanwhile  he  read,  a  hundred 
times,  the  letter  she  had  given  him  ;  read  with  unspeakable  delight 
the  word /ai^A/Wnn  the  hand  of  his  darling;  with  horror  the  an- 
nouncement of  her  death,  whose  approaches  she  appeared  to  view 
unmoved. 

Midnight  was    past,   when    something  rustled  at  the  half -opened 


348  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

door,  and  Barbara  came  in  with  a  little  basket.  ' '  I  am  to  tell  you 
the  story  of  our  woes,"  said  she  ;  "and  I  must  believe  that  you  will 
sit  unmoved  at  the  recital  ;  that  you  are  waiting  for  me  but  to  satisfy 
your  curiosity  ;  that  you  will  now,  as  you  did  formerly,  retire  within 
your  cold  selfishness,  while  our  hearts  are  breaking.  But  look  you 
here  !  Thus,  on  that  happy  evening,  did  I  bring  you  the  bottle  of 
champagne  ;  thus  did  I  place  the  three  glasses  on  the  table  ;  and  as 
you  then  began,  with  soft  nursery  tales,  to  cozen  us  and  lull  us  asleep, 
so  will  I  now  with  stern  truths  instruct  you  and  ke*ep  you  waking." 

Wilhelm  knew  not  what  to  say,  when  the  old  woman  in  fact  let  go 
the  cork,  and  filled  the  three  glasses  to  the  bi'im. 

"  Drink  !  "  cried  she,  having  emptied  at  a  draught  her  foaming 
glass.  "  Drink,  ere  the  spirit  of  it  pass  !  This  third  glass  shall  froth 
away  untasted  to  the  memory  of  my  unhappy  Mariana.  How  red 
were  her  lips,  when  she  then  drank  your  health  !  Ah,  and  now  for- 
ever pale  and  cold  !" 

"  Sibyl  !  Fury  !  "  cried  Wilhelm,  springing  up  and  striking  the 
table  with  his  fist,  "  what  evil  spirit  possesses  thee  and  drives  thee? 
For  what  dost  thou  take  me,  that  thou  tliinkest  the  simplest  narrative 
of  Mariana's  death  and  sorrows  will  not  harrow  me  enough,  but  usest 
these  hellish  arts  to  sharpen  my  torment '?  If  thy  unsatiable  greedi- 
ness is  such,  that  thou  must  revel  at  the  funeral  table,  drink  and 
speak  !  I  have  loathed  thee  from  of  old  ;  and  I  cannot  reckon 
Mariana  guiltless  while  I  even  look  upon  thee,  her  companion." 

"  Softly,  mein  herr  ! "  replied  the  crone  ;  "  you  shall  not  ruffle  me. 
Your  debts  to  us  are  deep  and  dark  ;  the  railing  of  a  debtor  does  not 
anger  one.  But  you  are  right  ■  the  simplest  narrative  will  punish  you 
sufficiently.  Hear,  then,  the  struggle  and  the  victory  of  Mariana 
striving  to  continue  yours." 

"  Continue  mine?"  cried  Wilhelm  :  "what  fable  dost  thou  mean 
to  tell  me  ?  " 

"  Interrupt  me  not,"  said  she  ;  "  hear  me,  and  then  give  what  belief 
you  list  :  to  me  it  is  all  one.  Did  you  not,  the  last  night  you  were 
with  us,  find  a  letter  in  the  room  and  take  it  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  found  the  letter  after  I  had  taken  it  with  me  :  it  was  lying  in 
the  neckerchief,  which,  in  the  warmth  of  my  love,  I  had  seized  and 
carried  ofE." 

"  What  did  the  sheet  contain  ?  " 

"  The  expectation  of  an  angry  lover  to  be  better  treated  on  the  next, 
than  he  had  been  on  the  preceding  evening.  And  that  you  kept  your 
word  to  him,  I  need  not  be  told  ;  for  I  saw  him  with  my  own  eyes 
gliding  from  your  house  before  daybreak." 

"You  may  have  seen  him;  but  what  occurred  within  ;  how  sadly 
Mariana  passed  that  night,  how  fretfully  I  passed  it,  you  are  yet  to 
learn.  I  will  be  altogether  candid  ;  I  will  neitlier  hide  nor  palliate 
the  fact,  that  I  persuaded  Mariana  to  yield  to  the  solicitations  of  a 
pertain  Norberg  ;  it  was  with  repugnance  that  she  followed  my  advice, 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VIII.  349 

nay,  that  she  even  heard  it.  He  was  rich  ;  he  seemed  attached  ;  I 
hoped  he  would  be  constant.  Soon  after,  he  was  forced  to  go  upon 
his  journey,  and  Mariana  became  acquainted  with  you.  What  had  I 
then  to  abide  !  What  to  liiuder,  wliat  to  undergo  !  '  O  ! '  cried  she 
often,  '  hadst  thou  spared  my  youth,  ujy  innocence  but  four  short 
weeks,  I  might  have  found  a  worthy  object  of  my  love  ;  I  had  then 
been  worthy  of  him,  and  love  might  have  given,  with  a  quiet  con- 
science, what  now  I  have  sold  against  my  will.'  She  entirely  aban- 
doned herself  to* her  affection  for  you  :  I  need  not  ask  if  you  were 
happy.  Over  her  understanding  I  had  an  unbounded  power  ;  for  I 
knew  the  means  of  satisfying  all  her  little  inclinations  ;  but  over  her 
heart  I  had  no  control  ;  for  slie  never  sanctioned  what  I  did  for  her, 
what  I  counseled  her  to  do,  when  her  heart  said  nay.  It  was  only  to 
irresistible  necessity  that  she  would  yield  :  but  ere  long  the  necessity 
appeared  to  her  extremely  pressing.  In  the  first  period  of  her  youth, 
she  had  never  known  want  :  by  a  complication  of  misfortunes  her 
people  lost  their  fortune  ;  the  poor  girl  had  been  used  to  have  a  num- 
ber of  conveniences  ;  and  upon  her  young  spirit  certain  principles  of 
honor  had  been  stamped,  which  made  her  restless,  without  much 
helping  her.  She  had  not  the  smallest  skill  in  worldly  matters  ;  she 
was  innocent  in  the  strictest  meaning  of  the  word.  She  had  no  idea 
that  one  could  buy  without  paying :  nothing  frightened  her  more 
than  being  in  debt  ;  she  always  rather  liked  to  give  than  take.  This, 
and  this  alone,  was  what  made  it  possible,  that  she  could  be  con- 
strained to  give  herself  away,  in  order  to  get  rid  of  various  little 
debts  which  weighed  upon  her. ' ' 

"  And  couldst  not  thou,"  cried  Wilhelm  in  an  angry  tone,  "  have 
saved  her? " 

"  O  yes  ! "  replied  the  beldame  ;  "  with  hunger  and  need  ;  with  sor- 
row and  privation  ;  but  for  this  I  was  not  disposed." 

"  Abominable,  base  procuress  !  So  thou  hast  sacrificed  the  hap- 
le.ss  creature  !     Offered  her  up  to  thy  throat,  to  thy  insatiable  maw  ?  " 

"  It  were  better  to  compose  yourself  and  cease  your  reviling,"  said 
the  dame.  "  If  you  will  revile,  go  to  your  high  noble  houses  :  there 
you  will  meet  with  many  a  mother  full  of  anxious  cares  to  find  out 
for  some  lovely  heavenly  maiden  the  most  odious  of  men,  provided 
he  be  the  richest.  See  the  poor  creature  shivering  and  faltering 
before  her  fate  ;  and  nowhere  finding  consolation,  till  some  more 
experienced  female  lets  her  iinderstand,  that  l)y  marriage  she  ac- 
quires the  right,  in  future,  to  dispose  of  her  heart  and  person  as  she 
pleases." 

"Peace  !"  cried  Wilhelm  :  "  dost  thou  think  that  one  crime  can 
be  the  excuse  of  another  ?  To  thy  story,  without  farther  observa- 
tions ! " 

"  Do  you  listen  then,  without  blaming  !  Mariana  became  yours 
against  my  will.  In  this  adventure  at  least  I  have  nothing  to  reproach 
jnyself  with.     Norberg  returned  ;  he  made  haste  to  visit  Mariana  ; 


350  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

she  received  him  coldly  and  angrily  ;  would  not  even  admit  him  to  a 
kiss.  I  employed  all  my  art  in  apologizing  for  her  conduct ;  gave 
him  to  understand  that  her  confessor  had  awakened  her  conscience  ; 
that  so  long  as  conscientious  scruples  lasted  one  was  bound  to  respect 
them.  1  at  last  so  far  succeeded  that  he  went  away  ;  I  promising  to 
do  my  utmost  for  him.  He  was  rich  and  rude  ;  but  there  was  a  touch 
of  goodness  in  him,  and  he  loved  Mariana  without  limit.  He  prom- 
ised to  be  patient  ;  and  I  labored  with  the  greatest  ardor  not  to  try 
him  too  far.  With  Mariana  I  had  a  stubborn  contest ;  I  persuaded 
her,  nay,  I  may  call  it  forced  her,  by  the  threat  of  leaving  her,  to 
write  to  Xorberg  and  invite  him  for  the  night.  You  came,  and  by 
chance  picked  up  his  answer  in  the  neckerchief.  Your  presence 
broke  my  game.  For  scarcely  were  you  gone,  when  she  anew  began 
her  lamentation  ;  she  swore  she  would  not  be  unfaithful  to  you  ;  she 
was  so  passionate,  so  frantic,  that  I  could  not  lielj)  sincerely  pitying 
her.  In  the  end,  I  promised,  that  for  this  night  also,  I  would  pacify 
her  lover,  and  send  him  off,  under  some  pretense  or  other.  I  en- 
treated her  to  go  to  bed  ;  but  she  did  not  seem  to  trust  me  ;  she  kept 
on  her  clothes,  and  at  last  fell  asleep,  without  undressing,  agitated 
and  exhausted  with  weeping  as  she  was. 

"  Norberg  came  ;  representing  in  the  blackest  hues  her  conscien- 
tious agonies  and  her  repentance  ;  I  endeavored  to  retain  him  ;  he 
wished  to  see  her,  and  I  went  into  the  room  to  prepare  her  ;  he  fol- 
lowed me,  and  both  of  us  at  once  came  forward  to  her  bed.  She 
awoke  ;  sprang  wildly  up,  and  tore  herself  from  our  arms  ;  she  con- 
jured and  begged,  .she  entreated,  threatened  and  declared  she  would 
not  yield.  She  was  improvident  enough  to  let  fall  some  words  about 
the  true  state  of  her  affections  ;  which  poor  Norberg  had  to  under- 
stand in  a  spiritual  sense.  At  length  he  left  her,  and  she  locked  her 
door.  I  kept  him  long  with  me  and  talked  with  him  about  her  situ- 
ation ;  I  told  him  that  she  was  with  child  ;  that,  poor  girl,  she  should 
be  humored.  He  was  so  delighted  with  his  fatherhood,  with  his 
prospect  of  a  boy,  that  he  granted  everything  she  wished  ;  he  prom- 
ised rather  to  set  out  and  travel  for  a  time,  than  vex  his  dear,  and  in- 
jure her  by  these  internal  troubles.  With  such  intentions,  at  an 
early  hour  he  glided  out  ;  and  if  you,  mein  herr,  stood  sentry  by  our 
house,  there  was  nothing  wanting  to  your  happiness,  but  to  have 
looked  into  the  bosom  of  your  rival,  whom  you  thought  so  favored 
and  so  fortunate,  and  whose  appearance  drove  you  to  despair." 

"  Art  thou  speaking  truth?"  said  Wilhelm. 

"True,"  said  the  crone,  "as  I  still  hope  to  drive  yon  to  despair. 
Yes,  certainly  you  xvould  despair,  if  I  could  lightly  paint  to  you  the 
following  morning.  '  How  cheerfully  did  she  awake  ;  how  kindly 
did  she  call  me  in  ;  how  warmly  thank  me,  how  cordially  press  me 
to  her  bosom !  '  Now,'  said  she,  stepping  up  to  her  mirror  with  a 
smile,  'can  I  again  take  pleasure  in  myself ,  and  in  ray  looks,  since 
once  more  I  am  my  owji,  am  his,  my  one  beloved   friend's.     Hovy 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VIIL  351 

sweet  is  it  to  conquer  !  How  I  thank  thee  for  taking  charge  of  me  ; 
for  having  turned  thy  prudence  and  thy  understanding,  once,  at  least, 
to  my  advantage  !  Stand  by  me,  and  devise  the  means  of  making 
me  entirely  happy ! ' 

"  I  assented,  would  not  irritate  her  ;  I  flattered  her  hopes, and  she 
caressed  me  tenderly.  If  she  retired  but  a  moment  from  the  window, 
I  was  made  to  stand  and  watch  ;  for  you,  of  course,  would  pass  ;  for 
she  at  least  would  see  you.  Thus  did  we  spend  the  restless  day. 
At  night,  at  the  accustomed  hour,  we  looked  for  you  with  certainty. 
I  was  alreadv  out  waiting  at  the  staircase  ;  I  grew  weary,  and  came 
in  to  her  again.  With  surprise,  I  found  her  in  her  military  dress  ; 
she  looked  cheerful,  and  charming  beyond  what  I  had  ever  seen  her. 
'  Do  I  not  deserve,'  said  she,  '  to  appear  to-night  in  man's  apparel  ? 
Have  1  not  struggled  bravely  ?  My  dearest  shall  see  me  as  he  saw 
me  for  the  first  time.  I  will  press  him  as  tenderly  and  with  greater 
freedom  to  my  heart  than  then  ;  for  am  not  1  his  much  more  than  1 
was  then,  when  a  noble  resolution  had  not  freed  me?  But,"  added 
she,  after  pausing  for  a  little,  '  I  have  not  yet  entirely  won  him  ;  1 
must  still  risk  the  uttermost,  in  order  to  be  worthy,  to  be  certain  of 
possessing  him  ;  I  must  disclose  the  whole  to  him,  discover  to  him 
all  my  state,  then  leave  it  to  himself  to  keep  or  to  reject  me.  This 
scene  I  am  preparing  for  my  friend,  preparing  for  myself  ;  and  were 
his  feelings  capable  of  casting  me  away,  I  should  then  belong  en- 
tirely to  myself  ;  my  punishment  would  bring  me  consolation,  I 
would  sufEer  all  that  fate  could  lay  upon  me. ' 

' '  With  such  purposes  and  hopes,  mein  herr,  this  lovely  girl 
expected  you  :  you  came  not.  O  !  how  shall  I  describe  the  state  of 
watching  and  of  hope  ?  I  see  thee  still  before  me  ;  with  what  love, 
what  heartfelt  love,  thou  spokest  of  the  man,  whose  cruelty  thou 
hadst  not  yet  experienced  !  " 

"  Good,  dear  Barbara  !  "  cried  Wilhelm,  springing  up,  and  seizing 
the  old  woman  by  the  hand,  "  we  have  had  enough  of  mummery  and 
preparation  !  Thy  indifferent,  thy  calm,  contented  tone  betrays  thee. 
Give  me  back  my  Mariana  !  She  is  living,  she  is  near  at  hand.  Not 
in  vain  didst  thou  choose  this  late  lonely  hour  to  visit  me ;  not  in 
vain  hast  thou  prepared  me  by  thy  most  delicious  narrative.  Where 
is  she  ?  Where  has  thou  hidden  her  ?  I  believe  all,  I  will  promise 
to  believe  all,  so  thou  but  show  her  to  me,  so  thou  give  her  to  my 
arms.  The  shadow  of  her  I  have  seen  already  :  let  me  clasp  her  once 
more  to  my  bosom.  I  will  kneel  before  her,  I  ^vill  entreat  forgiveness  ; 
I  will  congratulate  her  upon  her  victory  over  herself  and  thee  ;  I  will 
bring  my  Felix  to  her.  Come  !  where  hast  thou  concealed  her  ?  Leave 
Iter,  leave  ine  no  longer  in  uncertainty  !  Thy  object  is  attained. 
Where  hast  thou  hidden  her  ?  Let  me  light  thee  with  this  candle, 
let  me  once  more  see  her  fair  and  kindly  face  ! " 

He  had  pulled  old  Barbara  from  her  chair  ;  she  stared  at  him  ;  tears 
started  into  her  eyes,  wild  pangs  of  grief  took  hold  of  her.     "  What 


352  MEISTEB'8  APpRENtlGESHIP. 

luckless  error,"  cried  slie,  "  leaves  you  still  a  moment's  liope?  Yes, 
I  have  hidden  her  ;  but  beneath  the  ground  :  neither  the  light  of  the 
sun,  nor  any  social  taper  shall  again  illuminate  her  kindly  face.  Take 
the  boy  Felix  to  her  grave,  and  say  to  him  :  '  There  lies  thy  mother, 
whom  thy  father  doomed  unheard.'  The  heart  of  Mariana  beats  no 
longer  with  impatience  to  behold  you  ;  not  in  a  neighboring  chamber 
is  she  waiting  the  conclusion  of  my  narrative,  or  fable  ;  the  dark 
chamber  has  received  her,  to  which  no  bridegroom  follows,  from 
which  none  comes  to  meet  a  lover. " 

She  cast  herself  upon  the  floor  beside  a  chair,  and  wept  bitterly. 
Wilhelm  now,  for  the  first  time,  felt  entirely  convinced  that  Mariana 
was  no  more  ;  his  emotions  it  is  easy  to  conceive.  The  old  woman 
rose  :  "I  have  nothing  more  to  tell  you,"  cried  she,  and  threw  a 
packet  on  the  table.  "  Here  are  some  writings  that  v.-ill  put  your 
cruelty  to  shame  :  peruse  these  sheets  with  unwet  eyes,  if  you  can." 
She  glided  softly  out.  Our  friend  had  not  the  heart  to  open  the 
pocket-book  that  night  ;  he  had  himself  presented  it  to  Mariana  ;  he 
knew  that  she  had  carefully  preserved  in  it  every  letter  he  had  sent 
her.  Next  morning  he  prevailed  upon  himself  :  he  untied  the  ribbon  ; 
little  notes  came  forward  written  with  pencil  in  his  own  hand,  and 
recalled  to  him  every  situation,  from  the  first  day  of  their  graceful 
acquaintance  to  the  last  of  their  stern  separation.  In  particular,  it 
was  not  without  acute  anguish,  that  he  read  a  small  series  of  billets, 
which  had  been  addressed  to  himself,  and  to  which,  as  he  saw  from 
their  tenor,  Werner  had  refused  admittance. 

"No  one  of  my  letters  has  yet  penetrated  to  thee  ;  my  entreaties, 
my  prayers  have  not  reached  thee  ;  was  it  thyself  that  gave  these 
cruel  orders  "t  Shall  I  never  see  thee  more  ?  Yet  again  I  attempt  it  : 
I  entreat  thee,  come,  0  come  !  I  ask  not  to  retain  thee,  if  I  might 
but  once  more  press  thee  to  my  heart." 

"  When  I  used  to  sit  beside  thee,  holding  thy  hands,  looking  in  thy 
eyes  ;  and  with  tlie  full  heart  of  love  and  trust  to  call  thee,  '  Dear, 
dear  good  Wilhelm  ! '  it  would  please  thee  so,  that  I  had  to  repeat  it 
over  and  over.  I  repeat  it  once  again  :  '  Dear,  dear  good  Wilhelm  ! 
Be  good  as  thou  wert  ;  come,  and  leave  me  not  to  perish  in  my  wretch- 
edness.' " 

' '  Thou  regardest  me  as  guilty  :  I  am  so  ;  but  not  as  thou  thinkest. 
Come,  let  me  have  this  single  comfort  to  be  altogether  known  to  thee  ; 
let  what  will  befall  me  afterwards." 

' '  Not  for  my  sake  alone,  for  thy  own  too,  I  beg  of  thee  to  come.  I 
feel  the  intolerable  pains  thou  art  suffering,  whilst  thou  fiiest  from 
me.  Come,  that  our  separation  may  be  less  cruel  !  Perhaps  I  was 
never  worthy  of  thee  till  this  moment,  when  thou  art  repelling  me 
to  boundless  woe." 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VITI.  353 

''By  all  that  is  holy,  by  all  that  can  touch  a  human  heart,  1  call 
upon  thee  !  It  involves  the  safety  of  a  soul,  it  involves  a  life,  tvvb 
lives,  one  of  which  must  ever  be  dear  to  thee.  This,  too,  tliy  sus- 
picion will  discredit ;  yet  I  will  speak  it  in  tlie  hour  of  death  :  the 
child  which  I  carry  under  my  heart  is  thine.  Since  I  began  to  love 
thee,  no  other  man  has  even  pressed  my  hand  :  0  that  thy  love,  that 
thy  upriglitness  had  been  the  companions  of  my  youth  !  " 

"Thou  wilt  not  hear  me?  I  must  even  be  silent.  But  these  letters 
will  not  die  ;  perhaps  they  will  speak  to  thee,  when  the  sliroud  is 
covering  my  lips,  and  the  voice  of  thy  repentance  cannot  reach  my 
ear.  Through  my  weary  life,  to  the  last  moment,  this  will  be  my 
only  comfort :  that  though  I  cannot  call  myself  blameless,  towards 
thee  I  am  free  from  blame." 

Wilhelm  could  proceed  no  farther  :  he  resigned  himself  entirely  to 
his  sorrow  ;  which  became  still  more  afflicting  when,  Laertes  entering, 
he  was  obliged  to  hide  his'feelings.  Laertes  showed  a  purse  of  d  ucats, 
and  began  to  count  and  reckon  them,  assuring  Wilhelm  that  there 
could  be  nothing  finer  in  the  world  than  for  a  man  to  feel  himself  in 
the  way  to  wealth  ;  that  nothing  then  could  trouble  or  detain  him. 
Wilhelm  bethought  him  of  his  dream,  and  smiled  ;  but  at  the  same 
time,  he  remembered,  with  a  shudder,  that  in  his  vision  Mariana  had 
forsaken  him  to  follow  his  departed  father,  and  that  both  of  them  at 
last  had  moved  about  tlie  garden,  hovering  in  the  air  like  spirits. 

Laertes  forced  him  from  his  meditations  ;  he  brought  him  to  a 
coffee-house,  where,  immediately  on  Wilhelm's  entrance,  several  per- 
sons gathered  round  him.  They  were  men  who  had  applauded  his 
performance  on  the  stage  ;  they  expressed  their  joy  at  meeting  him  ; 
lamenting  that,  as  they  had  heard,  he  meant  to  leave  the  theater. 
They  spoke  so  reasonably  and  kindly  of  himself  and  his  acting,  of  his 
talent  and  their  hopes  from  it,  that  Wilhelm,  not  without  emotion, 
cried  at  last  :  "  O  how  infinitely  precious  would  such  sympathy  have 
been  to  me  some  months  ago  !  How  instructive,  how  encouraging  ! 
Never  had  1  turned  my  mind  so  totally  from  the  concerns  of  the  stage, 
never  had  I  gone  so  far  as  to  despair  of  the  public." 

"So  far  as  this,"  said  an  elderly  man,  who  now  stepped  forward, 
"  we  should  never  go.  The  public  is  large  ;  true  judgment,  true  feel- 
ing, are  not  quite  so  rare  as  one  believes  :  only  the  artist  ought  not  to 
demand  an  unconditional  approval  of  his  work.  Unconditional  appro- 
val is  always  the  least  valuable  ;  conditional  you  gentlemen  are  not 
content  with.  In  life,  as  in  art,  1  knov/  well,  a  person  must  take 
counsel  with  himself  wlien  he  purposes  to  do  or  to  produce  anything  ; 
but  when  it  is  produced  or  done  he  must  listen  with  attention  to  the 
voices  of  a  number,  and  with  a  little  practice,  out  of  these  many 
votes  he  will  be  able  to  collect  a  perfect  judgment.  The  few,  who 
could  themselves  pronounce  one,  for  the  most  part  hold  their  peace." 

"  This  they  should  not  do,"  said  Wilhelm.  "  I  have  often  heard 
Meister — 13 


3.-,4  MEISTER  'S  A  PPRENTICESHIP. 

people,  who  tliemselves  kept  silence  in  regard  to  works  of  merit,  com- 
plaining and  lamenting  that  silence  was  kept." 

"  To-day,  then,  we  will  speak  aloud,"  cried  a  young  man.  "  You 
must  dine  with  us,  and  we  will  try  to  pay  aff  a  little  of  the  debt  we 
have  owed  to  you.  and  sometimes  also  to  our  good  Aurelia." 

This  invitation  Wilhelm  courteously  declined  :  he  went  to  Frau 
Melina,  whom  he  wished  to  speak  with  on  the  subject  of  the  children, 
as  he  meant  to  take  them  from  her. 

Old  Barbara's  secret  was  not  too  religiously  observed  by  him.  He 
betrayed  himself  so  soon  as  he  again  beheld  the  lovely  Felix,  "0  my 
child!"  cried  he;  "my  dear  child!"  He  lifted  him,  and  pressed 
him  to  his  heart.  "  Father  !  what  hast  thou  brought  for  me?"  cried 
the  child.  Mignon  looked  at  both,  as  if  she  meant  to  warn  them  not 
to  blab. 

"What  new  phenomenon  is  this?"  said  Frau  Melina.  They  got 
the  children  sent  away  ;  and  Wilhelm,  thinking  that  he  did  not  owe 
old  Barbara  the  strictest  secrecy,  disclosed  the  whole  affair  to  Frau 
Melina.  She  viewed  him  with  a  smile.  "  O  !  these  credulous  men  !  " 
exclaimed  she.  "  If  anything  is  lying  in  their  path,  it  is  so  easy  to 
impose  it  on  theni ;  while  in  other  cases  they  will  neither  look  to  the 
right  nor  left,  and  can  value  nothing  which  they  have  not  previoiLsly 
impressed  with  the  stamp  of  an  arbitrary  passion  !  "  She  sighed, 
against  her  will.  If  our  friend  had  not  been  altogether  blind,  he 
must  have  noticed  in  her  cotiduct  an  affection  for  him  which  had  never 
been  entirely  subdued. 

He  now  spoke  with  her  about  the  children  ;  how  he  purposed  to 
keep  Felix  with  him,  and  to  place  Mignon  in  the  country.  Madam 
Melina,  though  sorry  at  the  thought  of  parting  with  them,  said  the 
plan  was  good,  nay,  absolutely  necessary.  Felix  Avas  becoming  wild 
with  her  ;  and  ilignon  seemed  to  need  fresh  air  and  other  occupation  ; 
she  was  sickly,  and  was  not  yet  recovering. 

"  Let  it  not  mislead  you,"  added  Frau  Melina,  "  that  I  have  lightly 
hinted  doubts  about  the  boy's  lieing  really  yours.  The  old  woman, 
it  is  true,  deserves  but  little  confidence  ;  yet  a  person  who  invents 
untruths  for  her  advantage  may  likewise  speak  the  truth  when  truths 
are  profitable  to  her.  Aurelia  she  had  hoodwinked  to  believe  that 
Felix  was  Lothario's  son  ;  and  it  is  a  property  of  us  women  that  we 
cordially  like  the  children  of  our  lovers,  though  we  do  not  know  the 
mothers,  or  even  hate  them  from  the  heart."  Felix  came  jumping 
in  ;  she  pressed  him  to  her  with  a  tenderness  which"  was  not  usual 
to  her. 

Wilhelm  hastened  home,  and  sent  for  Barbara  ;  who,  however, 
would  not  undertake  to  meet  him  till  the  twilight.  He  received  her 
angrily.  "  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  more  shameful,'  said  he, 
"than  establishing  one's  self  on  lies  and  fables.  Already  thou  hast 
done  much  mischief  with  them  ;  and  now  when  thy  word  could  decide 
the  fortune  of  my  life,  now  must  I  stand  dubious,  not  venturing  to 


BOOK  Vir.  CHAPTER  VUL  ^55 

call  the  child  my  owu,  though  to  possess  him  without  scruple  would 
form  my  highest  happiness.  I  cannot  look  upon  thee,  scandalous 
creature,  without  hatred  and  contempt." 

"Your  conduct,  if  I  speak  with  candor,"  said  the  old  woman, 
"appears  to  me  intolerable.  Even  if  Felix  were  not  yours,  he  is 
the  fairest  and  the  loveliest  child  in  nature  ;  one  might  purchase  him 
at  any  price,  to  have  him  always  near  one.  Is  he  not  worthy  your 
acceptance  ?  Do  not  I  deserve  for  my  care,  for  the  labor  I  have  had 
with  him,  a  little  pension  for  the  small  remainder  of  my  life?  O, 
you  gentlemen  who  know  no  want  !  It  is  well  for  you  to  talk  of 
truth  and  honor  ;  but  how  the  miserable  being  whose  smallest  neces- 
sity is  unprovided  for,  who  sees  in  her  perplexities  no  friend,  no  help, 
no  counsel  :  how  she  is  to  press  through  the  crowd  of  selfish  men. 
and  to  starve  in  silence,  you  are  seldom  at  the  trouble  to  consider. 
Did  you  read  Mariana's  letters?  They  are  the  letters  she  wrote  to 
you  at  that  unhappy  season.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  attempted  to  ap- 
proach you  to  deliver  you  these  sheets  ;  your  savage  brother-in-law 
had  so  begirt  you  that  craft  and  cunning  were  of  no  avail  ;  and  at 
last,  when  he  began  to  threaten  me  and  Mariana  with  imprisonment, 
I  had  then  to  cease  my  efforts,  and  renounce  all  hope.  Does  not 
everything  agree  with  what  I  told  you?  And  does  not  Norberg's 
letter  put  the  story  altogether  out  of  doubt  ?  " 

"  What  letter  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  Did  you  not  find  it  in  the  pocket-book?"  said  Barbara. 

"  I  have  not  yet  read  all  of  them." 

"  Give  me  the  pocket-book  :  on  that  paper  everything  depends. 
Norberg's  luckless  billet  caused  this  sorrowful  perplexity  :  another 
from  his  hands  may  loose  the  knots,  so  far  as  aught  may  .still  depend 
upon  unraveling  them."  She  took  a  letter  from  the  book  ;  Wilhelm 
recognized  that  odious  writing  ;  he  constrained  himself  and  read  : 

"Tell  me,  girl,  how  hast  thou  got  such  power  over  me?  I  would 
not  have  believed  that  a  goddess  herself  could  make  a  sighing  lover 
of  me.  Instead  of  hastening  towards  me  with  open  arms,  thou 
shrankest  back  from  me  :  one  might  have  taken  it  for  aversion.  Is 
it  fair  that  I  should  spend  the  night  with  old  Barbara,  sitting  on  a 
trunk,  and  but  two  doors  between  me  and  my  pretty  Mariana?  It  is 
too  bad,  I  tell  thee  !  I  have  promised  to  allow  thee  time  to  think  ;  not 
to  press  thee  unrelentingly  ;  I  could  run  mad  at  every  wasted  quarter 
of  an  hour.  Have  not  I  given  thee  gifts  according  to  my  power? 
Dost  thou  still  doubt  of  my  love?  What  Avilt  thou  have?  Do  but 
tell  me  ;  thou  shall  want  for  nothing.  Would  the  devil  had  the 
priest  that  put  such  stuff  into  thy  head  !  Why  didst  thou  go  to  such 
a  churl  ?  There  are  plenty  of  them  that  allow  young  people  some- 
what. Enough  !  I  tell  thee  things  mu.st  alter  ;  in  two  days  I  must 
have  an  answer  ;  for  I  am  to  leave  the  town  ;  and  if  thou  become  not 
kind  and  friendly  to  me,  thou  shalt  never  see  me  more " 

In  this  style,  "the  letter  spun  itself  to  great  length  ;  turning,  to 


356  MEI8TER  '8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Willielm's  painful  satisfaction,  still  about  tlie  same  point ;  and  testi- 
fying for  the  truth  of  the  account  which  he  had  got  from  Barbara. 
A  second  letter  clearly  proved,  that  Mariana  in  the  sequel  also  had 
niaintained  her  purpose  ;  and  it  was  not  without  heartfelt  grief  that 
out  of  these  and  other  papers  Wilhelm  learned  the  history  of  the 
unlucky  girl  to  the  very  hour  of  her  death. 

Barbara  had  gradually  tamed  the  rude  Norberg,  by  announcing  to 
him  Mariana's  death,  and  leaving  him  in  the  belief,  that  Felix  was 
his  son.  Once  or  twice  he  had  sent  her  money  ;  which,  however,  she 
retained  for  herself,  having  talked  Aurelia  into  taking  charge  of  the 
child.  But  unhappily  this  secret  source  of  riches  did  not  long  endure. 
Norberg  by  a  life  of  riot  had  impaired  his  fortune  ;  and  by  repeated 
love  affairs  his  heart  was  rendered  callous  to  his  supposed  first-born. 

Probable  as  all  this  seemed,  beautifully  as  it  all  agreed,  Wilhelm 
did  not  venture  to  give  w'ay  to  joy.  He  still  appeared  to  dread  a 
present  coming  from  his  evil  genius. 

"  Your  jealous  fears,"  said  Barbara,  who  guessed  his  mood  of  mind, 
"  time  alone  can  cure.  Look  upon  the  child  as  a  stranger  one  ;  take 
stricter  heed  of  him  on  that  account  ;  observe  his  gifts,  his  temper, 
his  capacities  ;  and  if  you  do  not,  by  and  by,  discover  in  him  the 
exact  resemblance  of  yourself,  your  eyes  must  certainly  be  bad.  Of 
this  I  can  assure  you,  were  I  a  man,  no  one  could  foist  a  child  on  me  : 
but  it  is  a  happiness  for  women,  that  in  these  cases  men  are  not  so 
quick  of  sight." 

These  things  over,  Wilhelm  and  Barbara  parted  ;  he  was  to  take 
Felix  with  him  ;  she  to  carry  Mignon  to  Theresa,  and  afterwards  to 
live  in  any  place  she  pleased,  upon  a  small  annuity  which  he  engaged 
to  settle  on  her. 

He  sent  for  Mignon,  to  prepare  her  for  the  new  arrangement. 
"  Master  ! "  said  she,  "  keep  me  with  thee  :  it  will  do  me  good  and  do 
me  ill." 

He  told  her  that,  as  she  was  now  grown  up,  there  should  be  some- 
thing farther  done  for  her  instruction.  "  I  am  sufficiently  instructed," 
answered  she,  "  to  love  and  grieve." 

He  directed  her  attention  to  her  health,  and  showed  that  she  re- 
quired continuous  care,  and  the  direction  of  a  good  physician.  "  Why 
care  for  me,"  said  she,  "  when  there  are  so  many  things  to  care  for?  " 

After  he  had  labored  greatly  to  persuade  her  that  he  could  not  take 
her  witli  him,  that  he  would  conduct  her  to  a  place  where  he  might 
often  see  her,  she  appeared  as  if  she  had  not  heard  a  word  of  it 
"  Thou  wishest  not  to  have  me  with  thee  ?  "  said  she.  "  Perhaps  it 
is  better  ;  send  me  to  the  old  harper  ;  the  poor  man  is  lonely  where 
he  is." 

Wilhelm  tried  to  show  her  that  the  old  man  was  in  comfortable  cir-, 
cumstances.     "  Every  liour  I  long  for  him,"  replied  the  child. 

"I  did  not  see,"  said  Wilhelm,  "that  thou  wert  so  fond  of  hinji 
when  he  was  living  with  us," 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  VIII.  357 

"  I  was  frightened  for  him,  when  he  was  awake  ;  I  could  not  bear 
his  eyes  ;  but  when  he  was  asleej),  I  liked  so  well  to  sit  by  him  !  I 
used  to  chase  the  flies  from  him  ;  I  could  not  look  at  him  enough.  0! 
he  has  stood  by  me  in  fearful  moments  ;  none  knows  how  much  I  owe 
him.  Had  I  known  the  road,  I  should  have  run  away  to  him  already." 

Wilhelm  set  the  circumstances  in  detail  before  her  ;  he  said,  that 
she  had  always  been  a  reasonable  child,  and  that  on  this  occasion  also 
she  might  do  as  she  desired.  "  Reason  is  cruel,"  said  she  ;  "  the  heart 
is  better  ;  I  will  go  as  thou  requirest,  only  leave  me  Felix." 

After  much  discussion,  her  opinion  was  not  altered  ;  and  Wilhelm 
at  last  resolved  on  giving  Barbara  both  the  children,  and  sending 
them  together  to  Theresa.  This  was  the  easier  for  him,  as  he  still 
feared  to  look  upon  the  lovely  Felix  as  his  son.  He  would  take  him 
on  his  arm,  and  carry  him  about  :  the  child  delighted  to  be  held  be- 
fore the  glass  ;  Wilhelm  also  liked,  though  unavowedly,  to  hold  him 
there,  and  seek  resemblances  between  their  faces.  If  for  a  moment 
any  striking  similarity  appeared  between  them,  he  would  press  the 
boy  in  his  arms  ;  and  then  at  once,  affrighted  by  the  thought  that  he 
might  be  mistaken,  he  would  set  him  down,  and  let  him  run  away. 
"  O! "  cried  he,  "  if  I  were  to  appropriate  this  priceless  treasure,  and 
it  w^re  then  to  be  snatched  from  me,  1  should  be  the  most  unhappy 
man  on  earth  ! " 

The  children  had  been  sent  away  ;  and  Wilhelm  was  about  to  take 
a  formal  leave  of  the  theater,  when  he  felt  that  in  reality  he  had 
already  taken  leave,  and  needed  but  to  go.  Mai-iana  was  no  more  ;  his 
two  guardian  spirits  had  departed,  and  his  thoughts  hied  after  them. 
The  fair  boy  hovered  like  a  beautiful  uncertain  vision  in  the  eyes  of 
his  imagination  :  he  saw  him,  at  Theresa's  hand,  running  through 
the  fields  and  woods,  forming  his  mind  and  person,  in  the  free  air, 
beside  a  free  and  cheerful  foster-mother.  Theresa  had  become  far 
dearer  to  him  since  he  figured  her  in  company  with  Felix.  Even 
while  sitting  in  the  theater,  he  thought  of  her  with  smiles  :  he  was 
almost  in  her  own  case,  the  stage  could  now  produce  no  more  illusions 
in  him. 

Serlo  and  Melina  were  excessively  polite  to  him,  when  they  ob- 
sers'ed  that  he  was  making  no  pretensions  to  his  former  place.  A  por- 
tion of  the  public  v.'ished  to  s^e  him  act  again  :  this  he  could  not 
accede  to  ;  nor  in  the  company  did  any  one  desire  it,  saving  Frau 
Melina. 

Of  this  friend  he  now  took  leave  ;  he  was  moved  at  parting  with 
her  ;  he  exclaimed  :  "  Why  do  we  presume  to  promise  anything  de- 
pending on  an  unknown  future?  The  most  slight  engagement  we 
have  not  power  to  keep  ;  far  less  a  purpose  of  importance.  I  feel 
ashamed  in  recollecting  what  I  promised  to  you  all,  in  that  unhappy 
night,  when  we  were  lying  plundered,  sick  aud  wounded,  crammed 
into  a  miserable  tavern.  How  did  misfortune  elevate  my  courage  ; 
what  a  treasure  did  I  think  I  had  found  in  my  good  wishes  !     And  of 


358  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

all  this  not  a  jot  lias  taken  effect.  I  leave  you  as  your  debtor  ;  and 
my  comfort  is,  that  our  people  prized  my  promise  at  its  actual  worth, 
and  never  more  took  notice  of  it." 

"Be  not  unjust  to  yourself,"  said  Frau  Melina  :  "if  no  one  ac- 
knowledges what  you  have  done  for  us,  I  at  least  will  not  forget  it. 
Our  whole  condition  had  been  different,  if  you  had  not  been  with  us. 
But  it  is  with  our  purposes  as  with  our  wishes.  They  seem  no 
longer  what  they  were,  when  they  have  been  accomplished,  been 
fulfilled  ;  and  we  think  we  have  done,  have  wished  for  nothing." 

"  You  shall  not,  by  your  friendly  statement,"  answered  Wilhelm, 
"  put  my  conscience  to  peace.  I  shall  always  look  upon  myself  as 
in  your  debt." 

"  Nay,  perhaps  you  are  so,"  said  Madam  Melina  ;  "  but  not  in  the 
manner  you  suppose.  We  reckon  it  a  shame  to  fail  in  the  fulfillment 
of  a  promise  we  liave  uttered  with  the  voice.  0  my  friend,  a  worthy 
person  by  his  very  presence  promises  us  much  !  The  confidence 
which  he  elicits,  the  inclination  he  inspires,  the  hopes  which  he 
awakens  are  unbounded :  he  is,  and  he  continues,  in  our  debt, 
although  he  does  not  know  it.  Fare  you  well  !  If  our  external  cir- 
cumstances have  been  happily  repaired  by  your  direction,  there  is  a 
void  produced  by  your  departure,  in  my  mind,  which  will  not  be  so 
easily  filled  up  again." 

Before  leaving  the  city,  Wilhelm  wrote  a  copious  sheet  to  Werner. 
He  had  before  exchanged  some  letters  ;  but,  not  being  able  to  agree, 
they  had  at  length  ceased  to  write.  Now,  however,  Wilhelm  had 
again  approxiaiated  to  his  brother  ;  he  was  just  about  to  do  what 
Werner  had  so  earnestly  desired.  He  could  say  :  "  I  am  abandoning 
the  stage  ;  I  mean  to  join  myself  with  men  whose  intercourse,  in 
every  sense,  must  lead  me  to  a  sure  and  suitable  activity."  He  in- 
quired about  his  property  ;  and  it  now  seemed  strange  to  him,  that 
he  had  never  for  so  long  a  time  disturbed  himself  about  it.  He 
knew  not  that  it  is  the  manner  of  all  persons  who  attach  importance 
to  their  inward  cultivation,  altogether  to  neglect  their  outward  cir- 
cumstances. This  had  been  Wilhelm's  case  :  he  now  for  the  first 
time  seemed  to  notice,  that  to  work  effectively,  he  stood  in  need  of 
outward  means.  He  entered  on  his  journey,  this  time,  in  a  temper 
altogether  different  from  that  of  last  ;  the  prospects  he  had  in  view 
were  charming  ;  he  hoped  to  meet  with  something  cheerful  by  the 
way. 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  IX.  869 


CHAPTER  IX. 

On  returning  to  Lothario's  castle,  Willielm  found  tliat  changes 
had  occurred.  Jarno  met  liim  with  the  tidings,  that  Lothario's  uncle 
being  dead,  the  baron  had  himself  set  out  to  take  possession  of  the 
heritage.  "  You  come  in  time,"  said  he,  "  to  help  the  abb6  and  me. 
Lothario  has  commissioned  us  to  purchase  some  extensive  properties 
of  land  in  this  quarter  :  he  has  long  contemplated  the  bargain,  and 
we  have  now  got  cash  and  credit  just  in  season.  The  only  point 
which  made  us  hesitate  was,  that  a  distant  trading  house  had  also 
views  upon  the  same  estates  ;  at  length  we  have  determined  to  make 
common  cause  with  it,  as  otherwise  we  might  outbid  each  other 
without  need  or  reason.  The  trader  seems  to  be  a  prudent  man. 
At  present  we  are  making  estimates  and  calculations  :  we  must  also 
settle  economically  how  the  lauds  are  to  be  shared,  so  that  each  of 
us  may  have  a  fine  estate."  The  papers  were  submitted  to  our 
friend  ;  the  fields,  meadows,  houses,  were  inspected  ;  and  though 
Jarno  and  the  abb6  seemed  to  understand  the  matter  fully,  Wilhelm 
could  not  help  desiring  that  Theresa  had  been  with  them. 

In  these  labors  several  days  were  spent,  and  Wilhelm  had  scarcely 
time  to  tell  his  friends  of  his  adventures  and  his  dubious  fatherhood. 
This  incident,  to  him  so  interesting,  they  treated  with  indifference 
and  levity. 

He  had  noticed,  that  they  frequently  in  confidential  conversation, 
while  at  table  or  in  walks,  would  suddenly  stop  short,  and  give  their 
words  another  application,  thereby  showing,  at  least,  that  they  had 
on  the  anvil  many  things  which  were  concealed  from  him.  He  be- 
thought him  of  what  Lydia  had  said  ;  and  he  put  the  greater  faith 
in  it,  as  one  entire  division  of  the  castle  had  always  been  inaccessible 
to  him.  The  way  to  certain  galleries,  particularly  to  the  ancient 
tower,  with  which  externally  he  was  so  well  acquainted,  he  had  often 
sought,  and  hitherto  in  vain. 

One  evening  Jarno  said  to  him  :  "  We  can  now  consider  you  as  ours, 
with  such  security,  that  it  were  unjust  if  we  did  not  introduce  you 
deeper  into  our  mysteries.  It  is  right  that  a  man,  when  he  first  enters 
upon  life,  should  think  highly  of  himself,  should  determine  to  attain 
many  eminent  distinctions,  should  endeavor  to  make  all  things  possi- 
ble ;  but  when  his  education  has  proceeded  to  a  certain  pitch,  it  is 
advantageous  for  him  that  he  learn  to  lose  himself  among  a  mass  of 
men,  that  he  learn  to  live  for  the  sake  of  others,  and  to  forget  himself 
in  an  activity  prescribed  by  duty.  It  is  then  that  he  first  becomes 
acquainted  with  himself  ;  for  it  is  conduct  alone  that  compares  us 
with  others.  You  shall  soon  see  what  a  curious  little  world  is  at  your 
very  hand,  and  how  well  you  are  known  in  it.  To-morrow  morning 
before  sunrise  be  dressed  and  ready." 


360  MEISTER'S  APPBENTiCESHIP. 

Jarno  came  at  the  appointed  tour  :  lie  led  our  friend  fhrougli  certain 
known  and  unknown  chambers  of  the  castle,  then  through  several 
galleries  ;  till  at  last  they  reached  a  large  old  door,  strongly  framed 
with  iron.  Jarno  knocked  ;  the  door  went  up  a  little,  so  as  to  admit 
one  person.  Jarno  introduced  our  friend,  and  did  not  follow  him. 
Wilhelm  found  himself  in  an  obscure  and  narrow  stand  ;  all  was 
dark  round  him  ;  and  when  he  tried  to  go  a  step  forward,  he  found 
himself  hemmed  in.  A  voice  not  altogether  strange  to  him  cried  : 
"  Enter  !  "  and  he  now  discovered  that  the  sides  of  the  place  where 
he  was  were  merely  hung  with  tapestry,  through  which  a  feeble  light 
glimmered  in  to  him.  "  Enter  !  "  cried  the  voice  again  ;  he  raised  the 
tapestry  and  entered. 

The  hall,  in  which  he  now  stood,  appeared  to  have  at  one  time  been 
a  chapel  ;  instead  of  the  altar  he  observed  a  large  table  raised  some 
steps  above  the  floor,  and  covered  with  a  green  cloth  hanging  over  it. 
On  the  top  of  this,  a  drawn  curtain  seemed  as  if  it  liid  a  picture  ;  on 
the  sides  were  spaces  beautifully  worked,  and  covered  in  with  fine 
wire  netting,  like  the  shelves  of  a  library  ;  only  here,  instead  of  books, 
a  multitude  of  rolls  had  been  inserted.  Nobody  was  in  the  hall,  the 
rising  sun  shone  through  the  window,  right  on  Wilhelm,  and  kindly 
saluted  him  as  he  came  in. 

"  Be  seated  !  "  cried  a  voice,  which  seemed  to  issue  from  the  altar. 
Wilhelm  placed  himself  in  a  small  arm-chair,  which  stood  against 
the  tapestry  where  he  had  entered.  There  was  no  seat  but  this  in 
the  room  ;  Wilhelm  had  to  be  content  with  it,  though  the  morning 
radiance  dazzled  him  ;  the  chair  stood  fast,  he  could  only  keep  his 
hand  before  his  eyes. 

But  now  the  curtain,  which  hung  down  above  the  altar,  went  asun- 
der with  a  gentle  rustling  ;  and  showed,  within  a  picture  frame,  a 
dark  empty  aperture.  A  man  stepped  forward  at  it,  in  a  common  dress, 
saluted  the  astonished  looker-on,  and  said  to  him  :  "  Do  you  not 
recognize  me?  Among  the  many  things  which  you  would  like  to 
know,  do  you  feel  no  curiosity  to  learn  where  your  grandfather's  col- 
lection of  pictures  and  statues  are  at  present  ?  Have  you  forgotten 
the  painting  which  you  once  so  much  delighted  in  ?  Where,  think 
you,  is  the  sick  king's  son  now  languishing?"  Wilhelm,  without 
difficulty,  recognized  the  stranger,  whom,  in  that  important  night,  he 
had  conversed  with  at  the  inn.  ' '  Perhaps,"  continued  his  interrogator, 
"we  should  now  be  less  at  variance  in  regard  to  destiny  and  char- 
acter." 

Wilhelm  was  about  to  answer,  when  the  curtain  quickly  flew 
together.  "  Strange  !  "  said  Wilhelm  to  himself  ;  "  can  chance  occur- 
rences have  a  connection?  Is  what  we  call  destiny  but  chance? 
Where  in  my  grandfather's  collection  ;  and  why  am  I  remembered  of 
it  in  these  solemn  moments  ?  " 

He  had  not  leisure  to  pursue  his  thoughts  :  tlie  curtain  once  more 
parted  ;  and  a  person  stood  before  him,  wlioiu  hv  ijistantly  perceived 


BOOK  VII.  CHAPTER  IX.  361 

to  be  the  country  clergyman,  that  had  attended  him  and  his  com- 
panions on  that  pleasure  sail  of  theirs.  He  had  a  resemblance  to  the 
&bh6,  though  he  seemed  to  be  a  different  person.  With  a  cheerful 
countenance,  in  a  tone  of  dignity,  he  ^aid  :  "  To  guard  from  error,  is 
not  the  instructor's  duty  ;  but  to  lead  the  erring  pupil  ;  nay,  to  let 
him  quaff  his  error  in  deep  satiating  draughts,  this  is  the  instructor's 
wisdom.  Tie  who  only  tastes  his  error  will  long  dwell  with  it,  will  take 
delight  in  it  as  in  a  singular  felicity  ;  while  he  who  drains  it  to  the 
dregs  will,  if  he  be  not  crazy,  find  it  out."  The  curtain  closed  again, 
and  Wilhelm  had  a  little  time  to  think.  "  What  error  can  he  mean," 
said  he  within  himself,  "  but  the  error  which  has  clung  to  me  through 
my  whole  life  ;  that  I  sought  for  cultivation  where  it  was  not  to  be 
found  ;  that  I  fancied  I  could  form  a  talent  in  me,  while  without  the 
smallest  gift  for  it." 

The  curtain  dashed  asunder  faster  than  before  ;  an  officer  advanced, 
and  said  in  passing  :  "  Learn  to  know  the  men  who  may  be  trusted  !  " 
The  curtain  closed  ;  and  Wilhelm  did  not  long  consider,  till  he  found 
this  otiicer  to  be  the  one  who  had  embraced  him  in  the  count's  park, 
and  had  caused  his  taking  Jarno  for  a  crimp.  How  that  stranger 
had  come  hither,  who  he  was,  were  riddles  to  our  friend.  "If  so 
many  men,"  cried  he,  "took  interest  in  thee,  knew  thy  way  of  life, 
and  how  it  should  be  carried  on,  why  did  they  not  conduct  thee  with 
greater  strictness,  with  greater  seriousness  ?  Why  did  they  favor 
thy  silly  sports,  instead  of  drawing  thee  away  from  them  ?" 

"  Dispute  not  with  us  !  "  cried  a  voice  :  "  Thou  art  saved,  thou  art 
on  the  way  to  the  goal.  None  of  thy  follies  wilt  thou  repent ;  none 
wilt  thou  wish  to  repeat  ;  no  luckier  destiny  can  be  allotted  to  a 
man."  The  curtain  went  asunder  ;  and  in  full  armor  stood  the  old 
king  of  Denmark  in  the  space.  "I  am  thy  father's  spirit,"  said  the 
figure,  "  and  I  depart  in  comfort,  since  my  wishes  for  thee  are  accom- 
plished, in  a  higher  sense  than  I  myself  contemplated.  Steep  regions 
cannot  be  surmounted  save  by  winding  paths  ;  on  the  plain,  straight 
roads  conduct  from  place  to  place.  Farewell,  and  think  of  me,  when 
thou  enjoyest  what  I  have  provided  for  thee." 

Wilhelm  was  exceedingly  amazed  and  struck  :  he  thought  it  was 
his  father's  voice  ;  and  yet  in  truth  it  was  not  :  the  present  and  the 
past  alike  confounded  and  perplexed  him. 

He  had  not  meditated  long,  when  the  abbe  came  to  view,  and  placed 
himself  behind  the  green  table.  "  Come  hither  ! "  cried  he  to  his  mar- 
veling friend.  He  went,  and  mounted  up  the  steps.  On  the  green 
cloth  lay  a  little  roll.  "Here  is  your  indenture,"  said  the  abb6  ; 
"  take  it  to  heart  ;  it  is  of  weighty  import."  W^ilhelm  lifted,  opened 
it,  and  read  : 

rNDENTXJKE. 

Art  is  long,  life  short,  judgment  diflBcult,  opportunity  transient. 
To  act  is  easy,  to  think  is  hard ;  to  act  according  to  our  thought  is 


362  M SISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

troublesome.  Every  beginning  is  cheerful  ;  the  threshold  is  the  place 
of  expectation.  The  boy  stands  astonished,  his  impressions  guide 
him  ;  he  learns  sportfully,  seriousness  comes  on  him  by  surprise. 
Imitation  is  born  with  us  ;  what  should  be  imitated  is  not  easy  to 
discover.  The  excellent  is  rarely  found,  more  rarely  valued.  The 
height  charms  us,  the  steps  to  it  do  not  :  with  the  summit  in  our 
eye,  we  love  to  walk  along  the  plain.  It  is  but  a  part  of  art  that  can 
be  taught ;  the  artist  needs  it  all.  Who  knows  it  half,  speaks  much, 
and  is  always  wrong  ;  who  knows  it  wholly,  inclines  to  act,  and  speaks 
seldom  or  late.  The  former  have  no  secrets  and  no  force  :  the  instruc- 
tion they  can  give  is  like  baked  bread,  savory  and  satisfying  for  a 
single  day  ;  but  flour  cannot  be  sown,  and  seed-corn  ought  not  to  be 
ground.  Words  are  good,  but  they  are  not  the  best.  The  best  is  not 
to  be  explained  by  words.  The  spirit  in  which  we  act  is  the  highest 
matter.  Action  can  be  understood  and  again  represented  by  the  spirit 
alone.  No  one  knows  what  he  is  doing,  while  he  acts  aright ;  but  of 
what  is  wrong  we  are  always  conscious.  Whoever  works  with  sym- 
bols only,  is  a  pedant,  a  hypocrite,  or  a  bungler.  There  are  many 
such,  and  they  like  to  be  together.  Their  babbling  detains  the  scholar  : 
their  obstinate  mediocrity  vexes  even  the  best.  The  instruction  which 
the  true  artist  gives  us,  opens  the  mind  ;  for  where  words  fail  him, 
deeds  speak.  The  true  scholar  learns  from  the  known  to  unfold  the 
unknown,  and  approaches  more  and  more  to  being  a  master. 

"Enough!"  cried  the  abb6  ;  "the  rest  in  due  time.  Now,  look 
round  you  among  these  cases." 

Wilhelm  went,  and  red  the  titles  of  the  rolls.  With  astonishment 
he  found  "Lothario's  Apprenticeship,"  "  Jarno's  Apprenticeship," 
and  his  own  "  Apprenticeship  "  placed  there,  with  many  others  whose 
names  he  did  not  know. 

"  May  I  hope  to  cast  a  look  into  these  rolls?" 

"  In  this  chamber  there  is  now  nothing  hid  from  you." 

"  May  I  put  a  question  ?  " 

"  Without  scruple  ;  and  you  may  expect  a  positive  reply,  if  it  con- 
cerns a  matter  which  is  nearest  your  heart,  and  ought  to  be  so." 

"Good  then  !  Ye  marvelous  sages,  whose  sight  has  pierced  so 
many  secrets,  can  you  tell  me  whether  Felix  is  in  truth  my  son?" 

"  Hail  to  you  for  this  question  ! "  cried  the  abb6,  clapping  hands  for 
joy.  "  Felix  is  your  son  1  By  the  holiest  that  lies  hid  among  us,  I 
swear  to  you,  Felix  is  your  son  ;  nor,  in  our  opinion,  was  the  mother 
that  is  gone  unworthy  of  you.  Receive  the  lovely  child  from  our 
hands  ;  turn  round,  and  venture  to  be  happy." 

Wilhelm  heard  a  noise  behind  him  :  he  turned  round,  and  saw  a 
child's  face  peeping  archly  through  the  tapestry  at  the  end  of  the 
room  ;  it  was  Felix.  The  boy  playfully  hid  himself  so  soon  as  he 
was  noticed.  ' '  Come  forward  !  "  cried  the  abb^  ;  he  came  running  ; 
his  father  rushed  towards  him,  took  him  in  his  arms,  and  pressed 
him  to  his  heart,    "  Yes  I  I  feel  it/'  cried  he,  "thou  art  mine  1    What 


BOOK  VIl.  CHAPTER  IX.  863 

ft  gift  of  Heaven  have  I  to  thank  my  friends  for  !    Whence,  or  how, 
comest  thou,  my  child,  at  this  important  moment  ?  " 

"Ask  not,"  said  the  abM.     "Hail  to  thee,  young  man  I    Thy 
apprenticeship  is  done  ;  Nature  has  pronouiiced  thee  free." 


364  MEISTER'a  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK    VIII. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Felix  skipped  into  the  garden  ;  Wilhelm  followed  him  with  rap- 
ture ;  a  lovely  morning  was  displaying  everything  with  fresh  charms  ; 
our  friend  enjoyed  the  most  delightful  moment.  Felix  was  new  in 
the  free  and  lordly  world  ;  nor  did  his  father  know  much  more  than 
he  about  the  objects,  concerning  which  the  little  creature  was  repeat- 
edly and  unweariedly  inquiring.  At  last  they  joined  the  gardener, 
who  had  to  tell  them  the  names  and  uses  of  a  multitude  of  plants. 
Wilhelm  looked  on  Nature  as  with  unscajed  eyes  ;  the  child's  new- 
fangled curiosity  first  made  him  sensible  how  weak  an  interest  he 
himself  had  taken  in  external  things,  how  small  his  actual  knowledge 
was.  Not  till  this  day,  the  happiest  of  his  life,  did  his  own  cultiva- 
tion seemed  to  have  commenced  :  he  felt  the  necessity  of  learning, 
being  called  upon  to  teach. 

Jarno  and  the  abb6  did  not  show  themselves  again  till  evening, 
when  they  brought  a  guest  along  witli  them.  Wilhelm  viewed  the 
stranger  with  amazement  ;  he  could  scarce  believe  his  eyes  ;  it  was 
Werner,  wlio,  likewise,  for  a  moment,  hesitated  in  his  recognition. 
They  embraced  each  other  tenderly  ;  neither  of  them  could  conceal 
that  he  thought  the  other  greatly  altered.  Werner  declared  that  his 
friend  was  taller,  stronger,  straighter  ;  that  he  had  become  more 
polished  in  his  looks  and  carriage.  "  Something  of  his  old  true- 
heartedness,  I  miss,  however,"  added  he.  "That,  too,  will  soon 
appear  again,"  said  Wilhelm,  "when  we  have  recovered  from  our 
first  astonishment." 

The  impression  Werner  made  upon  his  friend  was  by  no  means  so 
favorable.  The  honest  man  seemed  rather  to  have  retrograded  than 
advanced.  He  was  much  leaner  than  of  old  ;  his  peaked  face 
appeared  to  have  grown  sharper,  his  nose  longer  ;  brow  and  crown 
had  lost  their  hair ;  the  voice  clear,  eager,  shrill,  the  hollow  breast 
and  stooping  shoulders,  the  sallow  cheeks,  announced  indubitably 
that  a  melancholic  drudge  was  there. 

Wilhelm  was  discreet  enough  to  speak  but  sparingly  of  these  great 
changes  ;  while  the  other,  on  the  contrary,  gave  free  course  to  his 
friendly  joy.  "In  truth,"  cried  he,  "if  thou  hast  spent  thy  time 
badly,  and,  as  I  suppose,  gained  nothing,  it  must  be  owned  thou  art 
grown  a  piece  of  manhood  such  as  cannot  fail  to  turn  to  somewhat.  Do 
not  waste  and  squander  me  this  too  again  ;  with  such  a  figure  thou 


BOOK  tin.  CHAPTER  t.  365 

fehalt  biiy  some  rich  and  beautiful  heiress."  "  I  see,"  said  Wilhelnl, 
smiling,  "  tliou  wilt  not  belie  thy  character.  Scarcely  hast  thou 
found  thy  brother  after  long  absence,  when  thou  lookest  on  hiin  as  a 
piece  of  goods,  a  thing  to  speculate  on,  and  make  profit  by." 

Jarno  and  the  abb^  did  not  seem  at  all  astonished  at  this  recogni- 
tion ;  they  allowed  the  two  to  expatiate  on  the  past  and  present  as 
they  pleased.  Werner  walked  round  and  round  his  friend  ;  turned 
him  to  this  side  and  to  that  ;  so  as  almost  to  embarrass  him.  "  No  !" 
cried  he,  "  such  a  thing  as  this  I  never  met  with,  and  yet  I  know  that 
I  am  not  mistaken.  Thy  eyes  are  deeper,  thy  brow  is  broader  ;  thy 
nose  has  grown  finer,  thy  mouth  more  lovely.  Do  but  look  at  him, 
how  he  stands  :.how  it  all  suits  and  fits  together  !  Well,  idling  is  the 
way  to  grow.  But  for  me,  poor  devil,"  said  he,  looking  at  himself 
in  the  glass,  "  if  I  had  not  all  this  while  been  making  store  of  money, 
it  were  over  with  me  altogether." 

Werner  liad  got  Wilhelnr  s  last  letter  ;  the  distant  trading  house. 
In  common  with  which  Lothario  meant  to  purchase  the  estates,  was 
theirs.  On  that  business  Werner  had  come  hither,  not  dreaming  that 
he  should  meet  with  Wilhelm  on  the  way.  The  baron's  lawyer 
came  ;  the  papers  were  produced  ;  Werner  reckoned  the  conditions 
reasonable.  "  If  you  mean  well,"  said  he,  "as  you  seem  to  do,  with 
this  young  man,  you  will  of  yourselves  take  care  that  our  part  be  not 
abridged  :  it  shall  be  at  my  friend's  ojition  whether  he  will  take  the 
land,  and  lay  out  a  portion  of  his  fortune  on  it."  Jarno  and  the  abbe 
protested  that  they  did  not  need  his  admonition.  Scarcely  had  the 
business  been  discussed  in  general  terms,  when  Werner  signified  a 
longing  for  a  game  at  omber  ;  to  which,  in  consequence,  Jarno  and 
the  abbe  set  themselves  along  with  him.  He  was  now  grown  so  ac- 
customed to  it,  that  he  could  not  pass  the  evening  without  cards. 

The  two  friends,  after  supper,  being  left  alone,  began  to  talk,  and 
question  one  another  very  keenly,  touching  everything  they  wished 
to  have  communicated.  Wilhelm  spoke  in  high  tenns  of  his  situa- 
tion, of  his  happiness  in  being  received  among  such  men.  Werner 
shook  his  head  and  said  :  "Well,  I  see,  we  should  believe  nothing 
that  we  do  not  see  with  our  eyes.  More  than  one  obliging  fi'iend 
assured  me  thou  wert  living  with  a  wild  young  nobleman,  wert  sup- 
plying him  with  actresses,  helping  him  to  waste  his  money  ;  that,  by 
thy  means,  he  had  quarreled  with  every  one  of  his  relations."  "  For 
my  own  sake,  and  the  sake  of  these  worthy  gentlemen,  I  should  be 
vexed  at  this,"  said  Wilhelm,  "had  not  my  theatrical  experience 
made  me  tolerant  to  every  sort  of  calumny.  How  can  men  judge 
rightly  of  our  actions,  which  appear  but  singly  or  in  fragments  to 
them  ;  of  which  they  see  the  smallest  portion  ;  while  good  and  bad 
take  place  in  secret,  and  for  most  part  nothing  comes  to  light  but  an 
indifferent  show  't  Are  not  the  actors  and  actresses  in  a  play  set  up  ■ 
on  boards  before  them  ;  lamps  lit  on  every  side  ;  the  whole  transac- 
tion is  comprised  within  three  hours  ;  yet  scarcely  one  of  them  knows 
rightly  what  to  make  of  it." 


366  MEISTER  'S  A  PPR  ENTICE8HIP. 

Our  friend  proceeded  to  inquire  about  liis  family,  his  young  com- 
rades, liis  native  town.  Werner  told,  with  great  haste,  of  changes 
that  had  taken  place,  of  clianges  that  were  still  in  progress.  "  The 
women  in  our  house,"  said  he,  "are  satisfied  and  happy;  we  are 
never  short  of  money.  One  half  of  their  time  they  spend  in  dress- 
ing ;  the  other  in  showing  themselves  when  dressed.  They  are  as 
domestic  as  a  reasonable  man  could  wish.  My  boys  are  growing  up 
to  prudent  youths.  I  already,  as  in  vision,  see  them  sitting,  writing, 
reckoning,  running,  trading,  trucking  :  each  oi  them,  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible shall  have  a  bu.siness  of  his  own.  As  to  what  concerns  our 
fortune,  thou  v.ilt  be  contented  with  the  state  of  it.  When  we  have 
got  these  lands  in  order,  thou  must  come  directly  home  with  me  ;  for 
it  now  appears  as  if  thou  too  couldst  mingle  with  some  skill  in  worldly 
undertakings.  Thanks  to  thy  new  friends,  who  have  set  thee  on  the 
proper  patli.  I  am  certainly  a  fool  :  I  never  knew  till  now  how  well 
I  liked  thee,  now  Avhen  I  cannot  gape  and  gaze  at  thee  enough,  so  well 
and  handsome  thou  lookest.  Thpt  is  in  truth  another  form  than  the 
portrait  which  was  sent  thy  sister  ;  which  occasioned  such  disputes 
at  home.  Both  mother  and  daughter  thought  young  master  very 
handsome  indeed,  with  his  slack  collar,  half-open  breast,  large  ruff, 
sleek  pendant  hair,  round  hat,  short  waistcoat,  and  wide  pantaloons  ; 
while  I,  on  the  other  liand,  maintained  that  the  costume  was  scarce 
two  finger-breadths  from  that  of  Harlequin.  But  now  thou  lookest 
like  a  man  ;  only  the  queue  is  wanting,  in  which  I  beg  of  thee  to 
bind  thy  hair ;  else  some  time  or  other,  they  will  seize  thee  as  a  Jew, 
and  demand  toll  and  tribute  of  thee." 

Felix  in  the  meantime  had  come  into  the  room  ;  and  as  they  did 
not  mind  him,  lie  had  laid  himself  upon  the  sofa,  and  was  fallen 
asleep.  "What  urchin  is  this'?"'  said  Werner.  Wilhelm  at  that 
moment  had  not  the  heart  to  tell  the  truth  ;  nor  did  he  wish  to  lay  a 
still  ambiguous  narrative  before  a  man,  who  was  by  nature  anything 
but  credulous. 

The  whole  party  now  proceeded  to  the  lands,  to  view  them,  and 
conclude  the  bargain.  Wilhelm  would  not  part  with  Felix  from  his 
side  ;  for  the  boy's  sake,  he  rejoiced  exceedingly  in  the  intended  pur- 
chase. The  longing  of  the  child  for  cherries  and  berries,  the  season 
for  which  was  at  hand,  brought  to  his  mind  the  days  of  his  own 
youth,  and  the  manifold  duties  of  a  father,  to  prepare,  to  procure,  and 
to  maintain  for  his  family  a  constant  series  of  enjoyments.  With 
what  interest  he  viewed  the  nurseries  and  the  buildings  !  How  zeal- 
ously he  contemplated  repairing  what  had  been  neglected,  restoring 
what  had  fallen  !  He  no  longer  looked  upon  the  world  with  the  eyes 
of  a  bird  of  passage  ;  an  edifice  he  did  not  now  consider  as  a  grove 
that  is  hastily  put  together,  and  that  withers  ere  one  leaves  it.  Every- 
thing that  he  proposed  commencing  was  to  be  completed  for  his  boy ; 
everything  that  he  erected  was  to  last  for  several  generations.  In 
this  sense,  his  apprenticeship  was  ended  ;  with  the  feeling  of  a  father, 


BOOK  Vni.  CHAPTER  I.  367 

he  had  acquired  all  the  virtues  of  a  citizen.  He  felt  this,  and  nothing 
could  exceed  his  joy.  "  O  needless  strictness  of  morality,"  exclaimed 
he,  "  while  Nature  in  her  own  kindly  manner  trains  xis  to  all  that  we 
require  to  he!  O  strange  demand  of  civil  society,  which  first  per- 
plexes and  misleads  us,  then  asks  of  us  more  than  Nature  herself  ! 
Woe  to  every  sort  of  culture  which  destroys  the  most  effectual  means 
of  all  true  culture,  and  directs  us  to  the  end,  instead  of  rendering  us 
happy  on  the  way  !  " 

Much  as  he  had  already  seen  in  his  life,  it  seemed  as  if  the  obser- 
vation of  the  child  afforded  him  his  first  clear  view  of  human  nature. 
The  theater,  the  world  had  appeared  before  him,  only  as  a  multitude 
of  thrown  dice,  every  one  of  which  upon  its  upper  surface  indicates 
a  greater  or  a  smaller  value  ;  and  which,  when  reckoned  up  together, 
make  a  sum.  But  here  in  the  person  of  the  boy,  as  we  might  say,  a 
single  die  was  laid  before  him,  on  the  many  sides  of  which  the  worth 
and  worthlessness  of  man's  nature  were  legibly  engrav<!d. 

The  child's  desire  to  have  distinctions  made  in  his  ideas  grew 
stronger  every  day.  Having  learned  that  things  had  names,  he  wished 
to  hear  the  name  of  everything  ;  supposing  that  there  could  be  noth- 
ing which  his  father  did  not  know,  he  often  teased  him  with  his 
questions,  and  caused  him  to  inquire  concerning  objects,  which  but 
for  this  he  would  have  passed  without  notice.  Our  innate  tendency 
to  pry  into  the  origin  and  end  of«  things  was  likewise  soon  developed 
in  the  boy.  When  he  asked  whence  came  the  wind,  and  whither 
went  the  flame,  his  father  for  the  first  time  truly  felt  the  limitation 
of  his  own  powers  ;  and  wished  to  understand  how  far  man  may  ven- 
ture with  his  thoughts,  and  what  things  he  may  hope  ever  to  give 
account  of  to  himself  or  others.  The  anger  of  the  child,  when  he 
saw  injustice  done  to  any  living  thing,  was  extremely  grateful  to  the 
father,  as  the  symptom  of  a  generous  heart.  Felix  once  struck 
fiercely  at  the  cook  for  cutting  up  some  pigeons.  The  fine  impression 
this  produced  on  Wilhelm  was,  indeed,  ere  long  disturbed,  when  he 
found  the  boy  unmercifully  tearing  sparrows  in  pieces,  and  beating 
frogs  to  death.  This  trait  reminded  him  of  many  men,  who  appear 
so  scrupulouslj'  just  when  without  passion,  and  witnessing  the  pro- 
ceedings of  other  men. 

The  pleasant  feeling,  that  the  boy  was  producing  so  fine  and  whole- 
some an  influence  on  his  being,  was  in  a  short  time  troubled  for  a 
moment,  when  our  friend  observed  that  in  truth  the  boy  was  educat- 
ing him  more  than  he  the  boy.  The  child's  conduct  he  was  not 
qualified  to  correct  ;  its  mind  he  could  not  guide  in  any  path  but  a 
spontaneous  one.  The  evil  habits  which  Aurelia  had  so  violently 
striven  against,  had  all,  as  it  seemed,  on  her  death,  assumed  their 
ancient  privileges.  Felix  still  never  shut  the  door  behind  him,  be 
still  would  not  eat  from  a  plate  ;  and  no  greater  pleasure  could  befall 
him  than  when  he  happened  to  be  overlooked,  and  could  take  his  bit 
immediately  from  the  dish,  or  let  the  full  glass  stand,  and  drink  out 


368  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  the  bottle.  He  delighted  also  very  much  when  he  could  set  him- 
self in  a  corner  with  a  book,  and  say  witli  a  serious  air  :  "  I  must 
study  this  scholar  stuff!"  though  he  neither  knew  his  letters  nor 
would  learn  them. 

Thus,  when  Wilhelm  thought  how  little  he  had  done  for  Felix, 
how  little  he  was  capable  of  doing,  there  arose  at  times  a  restlessness 
within  him,  which  appeared  to  counterbalance  all  his  happiness. 
"Are  we  men,  then,"  said  he,  "so  selfishly  formed  that  we  cannot 
possibly  take  proper  charge  of  any  one  without  us  ?  Am  I  not  acting 
with  the  boy  exactly  as  I  did  with  Mignon  ?  I  drew  the  dear  child  to- 
wards me  ;  her  presence  gave  me  pleasure  ;  yet  I  cruelly  neglected 
her.  What  did  I  do  for  her  education,  which  I  longed  for  with 
such  earnestness  ?  Nothing !  I  left  her  to  herself,  and  to  all  the 
accidents  to  which  in  a  society  of  coarse  people  she  could  be  ex- 
posed. And  now  for  this  boy,  who  seemed  so  interesting  before  he 
could  be  precious  to  thee,  has  thy  heart  ever  bid  thee  do  the  smallest 
service  to  liiui  ?  It  is  time  that  thou  shouldst  cease  to  waste  thy 
own  years  and  those  of  others  :  awake,  and  think  what  thou 
shouldst  do  for  thyself,  and  for  this  good  being,  whom  love  and 
nature  have  so  firmly  bound  to  thee." 

This  soliloquy  was  but  an  introduction  to  admit  that  he  had 
already  thought,  and  cared,  and  tried,  and  chosen  :  he  could  delay 
no  longer  to  confess  it.  After  sorrow,  often  and  in  vain  repeated, 
for  the  loss  of  Mariana,  he  distinctly  felt  that  he  must  seek  a  mother 
for  the  boy  ;  and  also  that  he  could  not  find  one  equal  to  Theresa. 
With  this  gifted  lady  he  was  thoroughly  acquainted.  Such  a  spouse 
and  helpmate  seemed  the  only  one  to  trust  one's  self  to,  in  such  cir- 
cumstances. Her  generous  affection  for  Lothario  did  not  make  him 
hesitate.  By  a  singular  destiny,  they  two  had  been  forever  parted  ; 
Theresa  looked  upon  herself  as  free  ;  she  had  talked  of  marrying, 
with  indifference  indeed,  but  as  of  a  matter  understood. 

After  long  deliberation,  he  determined  on  communicating  to  her 
everything  he  knew  about  himself.  She  was  to  be  made  acquainted 
with  him,  as  he  already  w^as  with  her.  He  accordingly  began  to 
take  a  survey  of  his  history  ;  but  it  seemed  to  him  so  empty  of 
events,  and  in  general  so  little  to  his  credit,  that  he  more  than  once 
was  on  the  point  of  giving  up  his  purpose.  At  last,  however,  he 
resolved  on  asking  Jarno  for  the  roll  of  his  apprenticeship,  which  he 
had  noticed  lying  in  the  tower  :  Jarno  said  it  was  the  very  time  for 
that,  and  Wilhelm  consequently  got  it. 

It  is  a  feeling  of  awe  and  fear,  which  seizes  on  a  man  of  noble 
mind,  when  conscious  that  his  character  is  just  about  to  be  exhibited 
before  him.  Every  transition  is  a  crisis  ;  and  a  crisis  presupposes 
sickness.  With  what  reluctance  do  we  look  into  the  glass  after 
rising  from  a  sick-bed  !  The  recovery  we  feel  :  the  effects  of  the 
past  disease  are  all  we  see.  Wilhelm  had,  however,  been  sufficiently 
prepared  ;  events  had  already  spoken  loudly  to  him,  and  his  friends 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  11.  369 

had  not  spared  liim.  If  he  opened  the  roll  of  parchment  with  some 
hurry,  he  grew  calmer  and  calmer  the  farther  he  read.  He  found 
his  life  delineated  with  large  sharp  strokes  ;  neither  unconnected 
incidents,  nor  narrow  sentiments  perplexed  his  view  ;  the  most 
bland  and  general  reflections  taught  without  shaming  him.  For  the 
first  time,  his  own  figure  was  presented  to  him  ;  not  indeed,  as  in  a 
mirror,  a  second  self  ;  but  as  in  a  portrait,  another  self  :  we  do  not, 
it  is  true,  recognize  ourselves  in  every  feature  ;  but  we  are  delighted 
that  a  thinking  spirit  has  so  understood  us,  that  such  gifts  have 
been  employed  in  representing  us,  tliat  an  image  of  what  we  were 
exists,  and  may  endure  when  we  ourselves  are  gone. 

Wilhelm  next  employed  himself  in  setting  forth  the  history  of  his 
life,  for  the  perusal  of  Theresa  ;  all  the  circumstances  of  it  were 
recalled  to  memory  by  what  he  had  been  reading  ;  he  almost  felt 
ashamed  that,  to  her  great  virtues,  he  had  nothing  to  oppose  which 
indicated  a  judicious  activity.  He  had  been  minute  in  his  written 
narrative  ;  he  was  brief  in  the  letter  which  he  sent  along  with  it. 
He  solicited  her  friendship,  her  love,  if  it  were  possible  ;  he  offered 
her  his  hand,  and  entreated  for  a  quick  decision. 

After  some  internal  contest  whether  it  was  proper  to  impart  this 
weighty  business  to  his  friends,  to  Jarno  and  the  abbe,  he  determined 
not  to  do  so.  His  resolution  was  so  firm,  the  business  of  such  im- 
portance, that  he  could  not  have  submitted  it  to  the  decision  of  the 
wisest  and  best  of  men.  He  was  even  cautious  enough  to  carry  his 
letter  with  his  own  hand  to  the  nearest  post.  From  his  parchment 
roll  it  appeared  with  certainty  enough  that,  in  very  many  actions  of 
his  life,  in  which  he  had  conceived  himself  to  be  proceeding  freely 
and  in  secret,  he  had  been  observed,  nay,  guided  ;  and  perhaps  the 
thought  of  this  had  given  him  an  unpleasant  feeling  ;  and  he  wished 
at  least  in  speaking  to  Theresa's  heart,  to  speak  purely  from  the 
heart ;  to  owe  his  fate  to  her  decision  and  determination  only.  Hence 
in  this  solemn  point  he  scrupled  not  to  give  his  overseers  the  slip. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Scarcely  was  the  letter  gone,  when  Lothario  returned.  Every 
one  was  gladdened  at  the  prospect  of  so  speedily  concluding  the 
important  business  which  they  had  in  hand  :  Wilhelm  waited  with 
anxiety  to  see  how  all  these  many  threads  were  to  be  loosed,  or  tied 
anew,  and  how  his  own  future  state  was  to  be  settled.  Lothario  gave 
a  kindly  salutation  to  them  all  :  he  was  quite  recovered  and  serene  ; 
he  had  the  air  of  one  who  knows  what  he  should  do,  and  who  finds 
no  hindrance  in  the  way  of  doing  it. 

His  cordial  greeting  Wilhelm  could  scarcely  repay.     "This,"  he 


370  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

had  to  own  within  himself,  "  is  the  friend,  the  lover,  bridegroom  of 
Theresa  ;  in  his  stead  thou  art  presuming  to  intrude.  Dost  thou  think 
it  possible  for  thee  to  banish,  to  obliterate  an  impression  such  as  this  ?  " 
Had  the  letter  not  been  sent  away,  perhaps  he  would  not  have  ventured 
sending  it  at  all.  But  happily  the  die  was  cast ;  it  might  be  Theresa 
had  already  taken  up  her  resolution,  and  only  distance  shrouded  with 
its  veil  a  happy  termination.  The  winning  or  the  losing  must  soon  be 
decided.  By  such  considerations  he  endeavoi'ed  to  compose  himself  ; 
and  yet  the  movements  of  his  heart  were  almost  feverish.  He  could 
give  but  little  attention  to  the  weighty  business,  on  which  in  some 
degree  the  fate  of  his  whole  property  depended.  In  passionate 
moments,  how  trivial  do  we  reckon  all  that  is  al^out  us,  all  that 
belongs  to  us  ! 

Happily  for  him,  Lothario  treated  the  afEair  with  magnanimity,  and 
Werner  with  an  air  of  ease.  The  latter,  in  his  violent  desire  of  gain, 
experienced  a  lively  pleasure  in  contemplating  the  fine  estate  which 
was  to  be  his  friend's.  Lothario,  for  his  part,  seemed  to  be  revolving 
very  different  thoughts.  "  I  cannot  take  such  pleasure  in  the  acquire- 
ment of  property,"  said  he,  "  as  in  the  justness  of  it." 

"  And  in  the  name  of  Heaven,"  cried  Werner,  "  is  not  this  of  ours 
acquired  justly 't " 

"  Not  altogether,"  said  Lothario. 

"  Are  we  not  giving  hard  cash  for  it?" 

"Doubtless,"  replied  Lothario  ;  "and  most  probably  you  will  con- 
sider what  I  am  now  hinting  at  as  nothing  but  a  whim.  No  property 
appears  to  me  quite  just,  quite  free  of  flaw,  except  it  contribute  to  the 
state  its  due  proportion." 

"How  !  "  said  Werner.  "You  would  rather  that  our  lands,  which 
we  have  purchased  free  from  burden,  had  been  taxable?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Lothario,  "  in  a  suitable  degree.  It  is  only  by  this 
equality  with  every  other  kind  of  property,  that  our  possession  of  it 
can  be  made  secure.  In  these  new  .times,  when  so  many  old  ideas  are 
tottering,  what  is  the  grand  reason  why  the  peasant  reckons  the  pos- 
session of  the  noble  less  equitable  than  his  own  ?  Simply  that  the 
noble  is  not  burdened,  and  lies  a  burden  on  him." 

"  But  how  would  the  interest  of  our  capital  agree  with  that  ?  "  said 
Werner. 

"Perfectly  well,"  returned  the  other,  "if  the  state,  for  a  regular 
and  fair  contribution,  Avoukl  relieve  us  from  the  feudal  hocus-pocus  ; 
would  allow  us  to  proceed  with  our  lands  according  to  our  pleasure  ; 
so  that  we  were  not  compelled  to  retain  such  masses  of  them  undi- 
vided, so  that  we  might  part  them  more  equally  among  our  children, 
whom  we  might  thus  introduce  to  vigorous  and  free  activity,  instead 
of  leaving  them  the  poor  inheritance  of  these  our  limited  and  limiting 
privileges,  to  enjoy  which  we  must  ever  be  invoking  the  ghosts  of 
our  forefathers.  How  much  happier  were  men  and  women  in  our 
rank  of  life,  if  they   might  with  unbidden   eyes  look   round  them, 


BOOK  Vni.  CHAPTER.  II  371 

and  elevate  \>y  their  selection,  here  a  worthy  maiden,  there  a  worthy 
youth,  regarding  nothing  farther  than  their  own  ideas  of  happiness  iii 
marriage  !  The  state  would  have  more,  perhaps  better  citizens,  and 
would  not  so  often  be  distressed  for  want  of  heads  and  hands. " 

"I  can  assure  you  honestly,"  said  Werner,  "  I  never  in  my  life 
thought  about  the  state:  my  taxes,  tolls  and  tributes  I  have' paid 
because  it  was  the  custom." 

"Still,  however,"  said  Lothario,  "  I  hope  to  make  a  worthy  patriot 
of  you.  As  he  alone  is  a  good  fatlier,  who  at  table  serves  his  chil- 
dren first,  so  is  he  alone  a  good  citizen,  who,  before  all  other  outlays, 
discliarges  what  he  owes  the  state." 

By  such  general  reflections  their  special  business  was  accelerated 
rather  than  retarded.  It  was  nearly  over,  when  Lothario  said  to 
Wilhelm  :  "1  must  send  you  to  a  place  where  you  are  needed  more 
than  here.  My  sister  bids  me  beg  of  you  to  go  to  her  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. Poor  Mignon  seems  to  be  decaying  more  and  more  ;  and  it  is 
thought  your  presence  might  allay  the  malady.  Besides  telling  me  in 
person,  my  sister  has  dispatched  this  note  after  me  :  so  that  you  per- 
ceive she  reckons  it  a  pressing  case."  Lothario  handed  him  a  billet. 
Wilhelm,  wlio  had  listened  in  extreme  perplexity,  at  once  discovered 
in  these  hasty  pencil-strokes  the  hand  of  the  countess,  and  knew 
not  what  to  answer. 

"  Take  Felix  with  you,"  said  Lothario  :  "  the  little  ones  will  cheer 
each  other.  You  must  be  upon  the  road  to-morrow  morning  early  ; 
my  sister's  coach,  in  which  my  people  traveled  hither,  is  still  here  :  I 
will  give  you  horses  half  the  way  ;  the  rest  you  post.  A  prosperous 
journey  to  you  !  Make  many  compliments  from  me,  when  you  arrive  ; 
tell  my  sister  I  shall  soon  be  back,  and  that  she  must  prepare  for 
guests.  Our  grand-uncle's  friend,  the  Marchese  Cipriani,  is  on  his  way 
to  visit  us  ;  he  hoped  to  find  the  old  man  still  in  life  ;  they  meant  to 
entertain  each  other  with  their  common  love  of  art,  and  the  recollec- 
tion of  their  early  intimacy.  The  marcliese,  much  younger  than  my 
uncle,  owed  to  him  the  greater  part  of  his  accomplishments.  We 
must  exert  all  our  endeavors  to  fill  up  in  some  measure  the  void  which 
is  awaiting  him  ;  and  a  larger  party  is  the  readiest  means." 

Lothario  went  with  the  abbe  to  his  chamber  ;  Jarno  had  ridden  off 
before  ;  Wilhelm  hastened  to  his  room.  There  was  none  to  whom  he 
could  unbosom  his  distress  ;  none  by  whose  assistance  he  could  turn 
aside  the  project,  which  he  viewed  with  so  much  fear.  The  little 
servant  came,  requesting  him  to  pack  :  they  were  to  put  the  luggage 
on  to-night,  meaning  to  set  out  by  daybreak.  Wilhelm  knew  not 
what  to  do  ;  at  length  he  cried  :  "  Well,  1  shall  leave  this  house  at 
any  rate  ;  on  the  road  I  may  consider  what  is  to  be  done  ;  at  all 
events  I  will  halt  in  the  middle  of  my  journey  ;  I  can  send  a  message 
hither,  I  can  write  what  I  recoil  from  saying  ;  then  let  come  of  it 
what  will."  In  spite  of  this  resolution  he  spent  a  sleepless  night  :  a 
look  on  Felix  resting  so  serenely  was  the  only  thing  that  gave  him 


872  MElSfER'S  APPREI^rTlGESBlP. 

any  solace.  "  O  !  who  knows,"  cried  he,  "  what  trials  are  hefore  me  ; 
who  knows  how  sharply  bygone  errors  will  yet  punish  me  ;  how 
often  good  and  reasonable  pi'ojects  for  the  future  shall  miscarry  ! 
But  this  treasure,  which  I  call  my  own,  continue  it  to  me,  thou  ex- 
orable  or  inexorable  fate  !  Were  it  possible  tliat  this  best  part  of 
myself  were  taken  from  me,  that  this  heart  could  be  torn  from  my 
heart,  then  farewell  sense  and  understanding  ;  farewell  all  care  and 
foresight  ;  vanish  thou  tendency  to  perseverance  !  All  that  distin- 
guishes us  from  the  beasts,  pass  away  !  And  if  it  is  not  lawful  for  a 
man  to  end  his  heavy  days  by  the  act  of  his  own  hand,  may  speedy 
madness  banish  consciousness,  before  death,  which  destroys  it 'for- 
ever, shall  bring  on  his  own  long  night." 

He  seized  the  boy  in  his  arms,  kissed  him,  clasped  him  and  wetted 
him  with  plenteous  tears. 

The  cliild  awoke  :  his  clear  eye,  his  friendly  look,  touched  his 
father  to  the  inmost  heart.  "  What  a  scene  awaits  me,"  cried  he, 
"  when  I  shall  present  thee  to  the  beautiful  unhappy  countess,  when 
she  shall  press  thee  to  her  bosom,  which  thy  father  has  so  deeply 
injured  !  Ought  I  not  to  fear  that  she  will  push  thee  from  her  with 
a  cry,  when  the  touch  of  thee  renews  her  real  oi  fancied  pain  !  "  The 
coachman  did  not  leave  him  time  for  farther  thought  or  hesitation  ; 
but  forced  him  into  the  carriage  before  day.  Wilhelm  wrapped  his 
Felix  well  :  the  morning  was  cold  but  clear  ;  the  child,  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life,  saw  the  sun  rise.  His  astonishment  ot  the  first  fiery 
glance  of  the  luminary,  at  the  growing  power  of  the  light  ;  his  plea- 
sure and  his  strange  remarks  rejoiced  the  father,  and  afforded  him  a 
glimpse  into  the  heart  of  the  boy,  before  which,  as  over  a  clear  and 
silent  sea,  the  sun  was  mounting  and  hovering. 

In  a  little  town  the  coachman  halted  ;  unyoked  his  horses,  and  rode 
back.  Wilhelm  took  possession  of  a  room,  and  asked  himself  seriously 
whether  he  would  stay  or  proceed.  Thus  irresolute  he  ventured  to 
take  out  the  little  note,  which  hitherto  he  had  never  had  the  heart  to 
look  on  :  it  contained  the  following  words  :  "  Send  thy  young  friend 
very  soon  ;  Mignon  for  the  last  two  days  has  been  growing  rather 
worse.  Sad  as  the  occasion  is,  1  shall  be  happy  to  get  acquainted  with 
him." 

The  concluding  words  Wilhelm,  at  the  first  glance,  had  not  seen. 
He  was  terrified  on  reading  them,  and  instantly  determined  not  to  go. 
"How!"  cried  he,  "Lothario,  knowing  what  occurred  between  us, 
has  not  told  her  who  I  am  ?  She  is  not,  with  a  settled  mind,  expecting 
an  acquaintance,  whom  she  would  rather  not  see  :  she  expects  a  stran- 
ger ;  and  I  enter  !  I  see  her  shudder  and  start  back,  I  see  her  blush  I 
No,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  encounter  such  a  scene  !  "  Just  then  his 
liorses  were  led  out  and  yoked :  Wilhelm  was  determined  to  take  off  his 
luggage  and  remain.  He  felt  extremely  agitated.  Hearing  the  maid 
running  upstairs  to  tell  him,  as  he  thought,  that  all  was  ready,  he 
began  on  the  spur  of  the  instant  to  devise  some  pretext  for  continu- 


MOK  nil.  CHAPTER  IL  373 

ing  ;  his  eyes  were  fixed,  without  attention,  on  the  letter  which  he 
still  held  in  his  hand.  "  In  the  name  of  Heaven  !  "  cried  he,  "  what 
is  this  ?  It  is  not  the  hand  of  the  countess,  it  is  the  hand  of  the 
Amazon  !  " 

The  maid  came  in,  requested  him  to  walk  down,  and  took  Felix 
with  her.  "  Is  it  possible,"  exclaimed  he,  "  is  it  true  ?  What  shall 
I  do  ?  Remain,  and  wait,  and  certify  myself?  Or  hasten,  hasten  and 
rush  into  an  explanation  V  Thou  art  on  the  way  to  her,  and  thou  canst 
loiter  !  This  night  thou  mayest  see  her,  and  thou  wilt  voluntarily 
lock  thyself  in  prison  !  It  is  her  hand  ;  yes,  it  is  hers  !  This  hand 
calls  thee  ;  her  coach  is  yoked  to  lead  thee  to  her  !  Xow  the 
riddle  is  explained  :  Lothario  has  two  sisters  ;  my  relation  to  the  one 
he  knows  ;  how  much  I  owe  to  the  otlier  is  unknown  to  him.  Nor  is 
she  aware  that  the  wounded  stroller,  who  stands  indebted  to  her  for 
his  health,  if  not  his  life,  has  been  received  with  such  unmerited 
attention  in  her  brother's  house." 

Felix,  who  was  swinging  to  and  fro  in  the  coach,  cried  up  to  him  : 
"  Father  !  Come,  0  come  !  Look  at  the  pretty  clouds,  the  pretty 
colors  !  "Yes,  I  come,"  cried  Wilhelm,  springing  downstairs  ;  "and 
all  the  glories  of  the  sky,  which  thou,  good  creature,  so  admirest, 
are  as  nothing  to  the  moment  which  I  look  for." 

Sitting  in  the  coach,  he  recalled  all  the  circumstances  of  the  matter 
to  his  memory.  "  So  this  is  the  Natalia,  then,  Theresa's  friend  ! 
What  a  discovery;  what  hopes,  what  prospects?  How  strange 
that  the  fear  of  speaking  about  the  one  sister  should  have  alto- 
gether concealed  from  me  the  existence  of  the  other  ! "  With 
what  joy  he  looked  on  Felix  !  He  anticipated  for  the  child,  as  for 
himself,  the  best  reception. 

Evening  at  last  came  on  ;  the  sun  had  set  ;  the  road  was  not  the 
best  ;  the  postilion  drove  slowly  ;  Felix  had  fallen  asleep,  and  new 
cares  and  doubts  arose  in  the  bosom  of  our  friend.  "  What  delusion, 
what  fantasies  are  these  that  rule  thee  !  "  said  he  to  himself.  "  An 
uncertain  similarity  of  handwriting  has  at  once  assui-ed  thee,  and 
given  thee  matter  for  the  strangest  castles  in  the  air."  He  again 
brought  out  the  paper  ;  in  the  departing  light  he  again  imagined  that 
he  recognized  the  hand  of  the  countess  ;  his  eyes  could  no  longer  find 
in  the  parts  what  his  heart  had  at  once  shown  him  in  the  whole. 
"These  horses,  then,  are  running  with  thee  to  a  scene  of  terror! 
Who  knows  but  in  a  few  short  hours  they  may  have  to  bring  thee 
back  again  ?  And  if  thou  shouldst  meet  with  her  alone  !  But  per- 
haps her  husband  will  be  there  ;  perhaps  the  baroness  ?  How  altered 
will  she  be  ?     Shall  I  not  fail,  and  sink  to  the  earth,  at  sight  of  her?" 

Yet  a  faint  hope  that  it  might  be  his  Amazon,  would  often  gleam 
through  these  gloomy  thoughts.  It  was  now  night  ;  the  carriage 
rolled  into  a  courtyard,  and  halted.  A  servant  with  a  link  stepped 
out  of  a  stately  portal,  and  came  down  the  broad  steps  to  the  carriage 
door.    "  You  liave  been  long  looked  for,"  said  he,  opening  it.  Wilhelm 


374  MEISTEB'8  APPBENTIGmJBtP. 

dismounted  ;  took  tlie  sleeping  Felix  in  liis  arms  ;  tlie  first  servant 
called  to  a  second,  who  was  standing  in  tlie  door  with  a  light :  "  Show 
the  gentleman  up  to  the  baroness. " 

Quick  as  lightning,  it  went  through  Wilhflm's  soul  :  "  What  a 
happiness  !  Be  it  by  accident  or  of  purpose,  the  baroness  is  here  !  I 
shall  see  her  first  ;  apparently  the  countess  has  retired  to  rest.  Ye 
good  spirits,  grant  that  the  moment  of  deepest  perplexity  may  pass 
tolerably  over  !  " 

He  entered  the  house  ;  he  found  himself  in  the  most  earnest,  and, 
as  he  almost  felt,  the  holiest  place  that  he  had  ever  trod.  A  pendant 
dazzling  luster  threw  its  light  upon  a  broad  and  softly  rising  flight  of 
stairs,  which  lay  before  him,  and  which  parted  into  two  divisions  at 
a  turn  above.  Slarble  statues  and  busts  were  standing  upon  pedestals 
and  arranged  in  niches  :  some  of  them  seemed  known  to  him.  The 
impressions  of  our  childhood  abide  with  us,  even  in  their  minutest 
traces.  He  recognized  a  Muse,  which  had  formerly  belonged  to  his 
grandfather  ;  not  indeed  by  its  form  or  worth,  but  by  an  arm  which 
had  been  restored,  and  some  new-inserted  pieces  of  the  robe.  He  felt 
as  if  a  fairy  tale  had  turned  out  to  be  true.  The  child  was  heavy  in 
liis  arms  ;  he  lingered  on  the  stairs,  and  knelt  down,  as  if  to  place 
him  more  conveniently.  His  real  want,  however,  was  to  get  a  mo- 
ment's breathing  time.  He  could  scarcely  raise  himself  again.  The 
servant,  who  was  carrying  the  light,  offered  to  take  Felix  ;  but  Wil- 
helm  could  not  part  with  him.  He  had  now  mounted  to  an  ante- 
chamber ;  in  which,  to  his  still  greater  astonishment,  he  observed  the 
well-known  picture  of  the  sick  king's  son  hanging  on  the  wall.  He 
had  scarcely  time  to  cast  a  look  on  it  ;  the  servant  hurried  him  along 
through  two  rooms  into  a  cabinet.  Here,  behind  a  light  screen,  which 
threw  a  shadow  on  her,  sat  a  young  lady  reading.  "O  that  it  were 
she  !  "  said  he  within  himself  at  this  decisive  moment.  He  set  down 
the  boy,  who  seemed  to  be  awakening  ;  he  meant  to  approach  the 
lady  ;  but  the  child  sank  together  drunk  with  sleep  ;  the  lady  rose 
and  came  to  him.  It  was  the  Amazon  !  Unable  to  restrain  himself, 
he  fell  upon  his  knee,  and  cried  :  "  It  is  she  !  "  He  seized  her  hand 
and  kissed  it  with  unbounded  rapture.  The  child  was  lying  on  the 
carpet  between  them,  sleeping  softlj-. 

Felix  was  carried  to  the  sofa  :  Natalia  sat  down  beside  him  ;  she 
directed  Wilhelm  to  the  chair  which  was  standing  nearest  them. 
She  proposed  to  order  some  refreshments  ;  these  our  friend  declined  ; 
he  was  altogther  occupied  convincing  himself  that  it  was  she,  closely 
examining  her  features,  shaded  by  the  screen,  and  accurately  recog- 
nizing them.  She  told  him  of  Mignon's  sickness,  in  general  terms  ; 
that  the  poor  child  was  gradually  consuming  under  the  influence  of 
a  few  deep  feelings  ;  that,  with  her  extreme  excitability,  and  her 
endeavoring  to  hide  it,  her  little  heart  often  suffered  violent  and 
dangerous  pains  ;  that  on  any  unexpected  agitation  of  her  mind,  this 
primary  organ  of  life  would  suddenly  stop,  and  no  trace  of  the  vital 


BOOK  nil.  CHAPTER  11.  375 

movement  could  be  felt  in  the  good  child's  bosom  That  when  such 
an  agonizing  cramp  was  past,  the  force  of  nature  would  again  express 
itself  in  strong  pulses,  and  now  torment  the  child  by  its  excess,  as  she 
had  before  suffered  by  its  defect. 

Wilhelm  recollected  one  spasmodic  scene  of  that  description,  and 
Natalia  referred  him  to  the  doctor,  who  would  speak  with  him  at  large 
on  the  affair,  and  explain  more  circumstantially  why  he,  the  friend 
and  benefactor  of  the  child,  had  been  at  present  sent  for.  "One 
curious  change,"  Natalia  added,  "  you  will  find  in  her  :  she  now  wears 
women's  clothes,  to  which  she  had  once  such  an  aversion," 

"  How  did  you  succeed  in  this  ?  "  said  Wilhelm. 

"  If  it  was  indeed  a  thing  to-be  desired,"  said  she,  "  we  owe  it  all 
to  chance.  Hear  how  it  happened.  Perhaps  you  are  aware  that  I 
have  constantly  about  me  a  number  of  little  girls,  whose  opening 
minds  I  endeavor,  as  they  grow  in  strength,  to  train  to  what  is  good 
and  right.  "  From  my  mouth  they  learn  nothing  but  what  I  myself 
regard  as  true  :  yet  I  cannot  and  would  not  hinder  them  from  gather- 
ing, among  other  people,  many  fragments  of  the  common  prejudices 
and  errors  which  are  current  in  the  world.  If  they  inquire  of  me 
about  them,  I  attempt,  as  far  as  possible,  to  join  these  alien  and  in- 
trusive notions  to  some  just  one,  and  thus  to  render  them,  if  not  use- 
ful, at  least  harmless.  Some  time  ago,  my  girls  had  heard  among  the 
peasants'  children  many  tales  of  angels,  of  Kuecht  Rupert  and  such 
shadowy  characters,  who,  they  understood,  appeared  at  certain  times 
in  person,  to  give  presents  to  good  children,  and  to  punish  naughty 
ones.  They  had  an  idea  that  these  strange  visitants  were  people  in 
disguise  :  in  this  I  confirmed  them  ;  and  without  entering  into 
explanations,  I  determined  on  the  first  opportunity,  to  let  them  see  a 
spectacle  of  that  sort.  It  chanced  that  the  birthday  of  two  twin- 
sisters,  whose  behavior  had  been  always  very  good,  was  near  ;  I 
promised  that,  on  this  occasion,  the  little  present  they  had  so  well 
deserved  should  be  delivered  to  them  by  an  angel.  They  were  on  the 
stretch  of  curiosity  regarding  this  phenomenon.  I  had  chosen  Mignon 
for  the  part  ;  and  accordingly,  at  the  appointed  day,  I  had  her  suit- 
ably equipped  in  a  long  light  snow-white  dress.  She  was,  of  course, 
provided  with  a  golden  girdle  round  her  waist,  and  a  golden  fillet  on 
her  hair.  I  at  first  proposed  to  omit  the  wings  ;  but  the  young 
ladies  who  were  decking  her,  insisted  on  a  pair  of  large  golden 
pinions,  in  preparing  whicli  they  meant  to  show  their  highest  art. 
Thus  did  the  strange  apparition,  with  a  lily  in  the  one  hand,  and  a 
little  basket  in  the  other,  glide  in  among  the  girls  :  she  surprised  even 
me.  '  There  comes  the  angel  ! '  said  I.  The  children  all  shrank  back  ; 
at  last  they  cried  :  '  It  is  Mignon  ! '  yet  they  durst  not  venture  to 
approach  the  wondrous  figure. 

"  '  Here  are  your  gifts,'  said  she,  putting  down  the  basket.  They 
gathered  around  her,  they  viewed,  they  felt,  they  questioned  her. 

"  '  Art  thou  an  angel  ? '  asked  one  of  them, 


376  MEISTER  '8  A  PPBENTICESHIP. 

"  '  I  wish  I  were,'  said  Mignon 
"  '  Why  dost  thou  bear  a  lily  ?  ' 

'"So  pure  and  so  open  should  my  heart  be  ;  then  were  I  happy.' 
"  '  What  wings  are  these?     Let  us  see  them  ! ' 
"  '  They  represent  far  finer  ones,  which  are  not  yet  unfolded.' 
"  And  thus  significantly  did  she  answer  all  their  other  childlike, 
innocent  inquiries.     The  little  party  having  satisfied  their  curiosity, 
and  the  impression  of  the  show  beginning  to  abate,  we  were  for  |)ro- 
ceeding  to  undress  the  little  angel.     This,  however,  she  resisted  :   she 
took  her  cithern  ;  she  seated  herself  here,  on  this  high  writiug-table, 
and  sang  a  little  song  with  touching  grace  : 

•  Such  let  me  seem  till  such  I  be  ; 

Take  not  my  snow-white  dress  away  1 
Soon  from  this  dusk  of  earth  I  flee 
Up  to  Lhe  glittering  lands  of  day. 

There  first  a  little  space  I  rest, 

Then  wake  so  glad,  to  scene  so  kind  ; 

In  earthly  robes  no  longer  drest, 

This  band,  this  girdle  left  behind. 

And  those  calm  shining  sons  of  morn 

They  ask  not  who  is  maid  or  boy  ; 
No  robes,  no  garments  there  are  worn, 

Our  body  pure  from  sin's  alloy. 

Through  little  life  not  much  I  toil'd, 

Yet  anguish  long  this  heart  has  wrung, 

Untimely  woe  my  blossom  spoiPd  ; 
Make  me  again  forever  young  ! 

"  I  immediately  determined  upon  leaving  lier  the  dress,"  proceeded 
Natalia  ;  "and  procuring  her  some  others  of  a  similar  kind.  These 
she  now  wears  ;  and  in  them,  I  think,  her  form  has  quite  a  different 
expression." 

As  it  was  already  late,  Natalia  let  the  stranger  go  ;  he  parted  from 
her  not  without  anxiety.  "  Is  she  married  or  not?  "  asked  he  within 
himself.  He  had  been  afraid,  at  every  rustling,  that  the  door  would 
open,  and  her  husband  enter.  The  serving-man,  who  showed  him  to 
his  room,  went  off,  before  our  friend  had  mustered  resolution  to 
inquire  regarding  this.  His  unrest  held  him  long  awake  ;  he  kept 
comparing  the  figure  of  the  Amazon  with  the  figure  of  his  new  ac- 
quaintance. The  two  would  not  combine  ;  the  former  he  had,  as  it 
were,  himself  fashioned  ;  the  latter  seemed  as  if  it  would  almost  new- 
fashion  him. 


BOOK  Vin.  CHAPTEB  UL  877 


CHAPTER  III. 


Next  morning,  while  all  was  yet  quiet,  he  went  about  viewing  the 
house.  It  was  the  purest,  finest,  stateliest  piece  of  architecture  he 
had  ever  seen.  "True  art,"  cried  he,  "is  like  good  company  ;  it 
constrains  us  in  the  most  delightful  way  to  recognize  the  measure 
by  which,  and  up  to  which,  our  inward  nature  has  been  shaped  by 
culture."  The  impression  which  the  busts  and  statues  of  his  grand- 
father made  upon  him  was  exceedingly  agreeable.  With  a  longing 
mind,  he  hastened  to  the  picture  of  the  sick  king's  son  ;  and  he  still 
felt  it  to  be  charming  and  affecting.  The  servant  opened  to  him 
various  other  chambers  ;  he  found  a  library,  a  museum,  a  cabinet  of 
philosophical  instruments.  In  much  of  this  he  could  not  help  per- 
ceiving his  extreme  ignorance,  lleanwhile  Felix  had  awakened,  and 
came  running  after  him.  The  thought  of  how  and  when  he  might 
receive  Theresa's  letter  gave  him  pain  ;  he  dreaded  seeing  Mignon, 
and  in  some  degree  Natalia.  How  unlike  his  present  state  was  his 
state  at  the  moment  when  he  sealed  the  letter  to  Theresa,  and  with  a 
glad  heart  wholly  gave  himself  to  that  noble  being  ! 

Natalia  sent  for  him  to  breakfast.  lie  proceeded  to  a  room,  where 
several  tidy  little  girls,  all  apparently  below  ten  years,  were  occupied 
in  furnishing  a  table,  while  another  of  the  same  appearance  brought 
in  various  sorts  of  beverage 

Wilhelm  cast  his  eye  upon  a  picture,  hung  above  the  sofa  ;  he 
could  not  but  recognize  in  it  the  portrait  of  Natalia,  little  as  the  exe- 
cution satisfied  him.  Natalia  entered,  and  the  likeness  seemed  en- 
tirely to  vanish.  To  his  comfort,  it  was  painted  with  the  cross  of  a 
religious  order  on  its  breast ;  and  he  now  saw  another  such  upon 
Natalia's. 

"  I  have  just  been  looking  at  the  portrait  here,"  said  he  ;  "and  it 
seems  surprising  that  a  painter  could  have  been  at  once  so  true  and 
so  false.  The  picture  resembles  you  in  general  extremely  well,  and 
yet  it  neither  has  your  features  nor  your  character." 

"It  is  rather  matter  of  surprise,"  replied  Natalia,  "  that  the  like- 
ness is  so  good.  It  is  not'  my  picture  ;  but  the  picture  of  an  aunt, 
whom  I  resembled  even  in  childhood,  though  she  was  then  advanced 
in  years.  It  was  painted  when  her  age  was  just  about  what  mine  is  : 
at  the  first  glance  every  one  imagines  it  is  meant  for  me.  You  should 
have  been  acquainted  with  that  excellent  lady.  I  owe  her  much.  A 
very  weak  state  of  health,  perhaps  too  much  employment  with  her 
own  thoughts,  and  withal  a  moral  and  religious  scrupulosity,  pre- 
vented her  from  being  to  the  world  what,  in  other  circumstances,  she 
might  have  become.  She  was  a  light  that  shone  but  on  a  few  friends, 
and  on  me  especially." 


378  MEI8TER  'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"Can  it  be  possible,"  said  VVilhelm,  after  thinking  for  a  moment, 
-while  so  many  circumstances  seemed  to  correspond  so  well,  "  can  it 
be  possible  that  the  fair  and  noble  saint,  whose  meek  confessions  I 
had  liberty  to  study,  was  your  aunt  ?  " 

"  You  read  the  manuscript '?  "  inquired  Natalia. 
"  Yes,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  with  the  greatest  sympathy,  and  not  with- 
out effect  upon  my  life.  What  most  impressed  me  in  this  paper  was, 
if  I  may  term  it  so,  the  purity  of  being,  not  only  of  the  writer  her- 
self, but  of  all  that  lay  round  her  ;  that  self-dependence  of  nature, 
that  impossibility  of  admitting  anything  into  her  soul  which  would 
not  harmonize  with  its  own  noble  lovely  tone." 

"You  are  more  tolerant  to  this  fine  spirit,"  said  Natalia,  "nay,  I 
will  say  more  just,  than  many  other  men,  to  whom  tlie  narrative  has 
been  imparted.  Every  cultivated  person  knows  how  he  has  had  to 
strive  against  a  certain  rudeness  both  in  himself  and  others  ;  how 
much  his  culture  costs  him  ;  how  apt  he  is,  after  all,  in  certain  cases, 
to  recollect  himself  alone,  forgetting  what  he  owes  to  others.  How 
often  has  a  worthy  person  to  reproach  himself  for  having  failed  to 
act  with  proper  delicacy  !  And  wlien  a  fair  nature  too  delicately,  too 
conscientiously  cultivates,  nay,  if  you  will,  overcultivates  itself,  there 
seems  to  be  no  toleration,  no  indulgence  for  it  in  the  world.  Yet  such 
persons  are,  without  us,  what  the  ideal  of  perfection  is  within  us  : 
models  not  for  being  imitated,  but  for  being  aimed  at.  We  laugh  at 
the  cleanliness  of  the  Dutch  ;  but  would  our  friend  Theresa  be 
what  she  is,  if  some  such  notion  were  not  always  present  to  her  in  her 
housekeeping '? " 

"  I  see  before  me  then,"  cried  Wilhelm,  "  in  Theresa's  friend,  the 
same  Natalia  whom  her  amiable  relative  was  so  attached  to ;  the 
Natalia,  who  from  her  youth  was  so  affectionate,  so  sympathizing  and 
helpful  !  It  was  only  out  of  such  a  line  that  such  a  being  could  pro- 
ceed. What  a  prospect  opens  before  me,  while  I  at  once  survey  your 
ancestors,  and  all  the  circle  you  belong  to  !  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Natalia,  "  in  a  certain  sense,  the  story  of  my  aunt 
would  give  you  the  faithf  ulest  picture  of  us.  Her  love  to  me,  indeed, 
has  made  her  praise  the  little  girl  too  much  :  in  speaking  of  a  child, 
we  never  speak  of  what  is  present,  but  of  what  we  hope  for." 

Wilhelm,  in  the  meantime,  was  rapidly  reflecting  that  Lothario's 
parentage  and  early  youth  were  now  likewise  known  to  him.  The 
fair  countess,  too,  appeared  before  him  in  her  childhood,  with  the 
aunt's  pearls  about  her  neck  :  he  himself  had  been  near  those  pearls, 
when  her  soft  lovely  lips  bent  down  to  meet  his  own.  These  beauti- 
ful remembrances  he  sought  to  drive  away  by  other  thoughts.  He 
ran  through  the  characters  to  whom  that  manuscript  had  introduced 
him.  "  I  am  here  then,"  cried  he,  "  in  your  worthy  uncle's  house  ! 
It  is  no  house,  it  is  a  temple,  and  you  are  the  priestess,  nay,  the  genius 
of  it  :  I  shall  recollect  for  life  my  impression  yesternight,  when  I 
entei-ed,  and   the  old  figures  of  my  earliest  days  were  again  before 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  III.  379 

me.  I  thought  of  the  compassionate  marble  statues  in  Mignon's 
song  ;  but  these  figures  had  not  to  lament  about  me  ;  they  looked 
upon  me  with  a  lofty  earnestness,  they  brought  my  first  years  into 
immediate  contact  with  the  present  moment.  That  ancient  treasure 
of  our  family,  the  joy  of  my  grandfather,  1  find  here  placed  among  so 
many  other  noble  works  of  art ;  and  myself,  whom  nature  made  the 
darling  of  the  good  old  man,  my  unworthy  self  I  find  here  also, 
heavens  !  in  what  society,  in  what  connections  ! " 

The  girls  had  by  degrees  gone  out  to  mind  their  little  occupations. 
Natalia,  left  alone  with  Wilhelm,  asked  some  farther  explanation  of 
his  last  remark.  The  discovery,  that  a  number  of  her  finest  paint- 
ings and  statues  had  at  one  time  been  the  property  of  Wil helm's 
grandfather,  did  not  fail  to  give  a  cheerful  stimulus  to  their  discourse. 
As  by  that  manuscript  he  had  got  ac(fuainted  with  Natalia's  hotise,  so 
now  he  found  himself,  too,  as  it  were,  in  his  inheritance.  At  length 
he  asked  for  Mignon.  His  friend  desired  him  to  have  patience  till 
the  doctor,  who  had  been  called  out  into  the  neighborhood,  returned. 
It  is  easy  to  suppose  that  the  doctor  was  the  same  little  active  man, 
whom  we  already  know,  and  who  was  spoken  of  in  the  "  Confessions 
of  a  Fair  Saint." 

"  Since  I  am  now,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  in  the  middle  of  your  family 
circle,  I  presume  the  abbe,  whom  that  paper  mentions,  is  the  strange, 
inexplicable  person,  whom,  after  the  most  singular  series  of  events, 
I  met  with  in  your  brother's  house  ?  Perhaps  you  can  give  some 
more  accurate  conception  of  him  !  " 

"  Of  the  abb6  there  might  much  be  said,"  replied  Natalia  ;  "  what 
I  know  best  about  him  is  the  influence  which  he  exerted  on  our  edu- 
cation. He  was,  for  a  time,  at  least,  convinced  that  education  ought 
in  every  case  to  be  adapted  to  the  inclinations  ;  his  present  views  of 
it  I  know  not.  He  maintained  that  with  man  the  first  and  last  con- 
sideration was  activity,  and  that  we  could  not  act  on  anything  without 
the  proper  gifts  for  it,  without  an  instinct  impelling  us  to  it.  '  You 
admit,' he  used  to  say,  'that' poets  must  be  born  such;  you  admit 
this  with  regard  to  all  professors  of  the  fine  arts  ;  because  you  must 
admit  it,  because  those  workings  of  human  nature  cannot  very  plausi- 
bly be  aped.  But  if  we  consider  well,  we  shall  find  that  every  capa- 
bility, however  sliglit,  is  born  with  us  :  that  there  is  no  vague  general 
capability  in  men.  It  is  our  ambiguous,  dissipating  education  that 
makes  men  uncertain  :  it  awakens  wishes,  when  it  should  be  animat- 
ing tendencies  ;  instead  of  forwarding  our  real  capacities,  it  turns 
our  efforts  towards  objects  wliich  are  frequently  discordant  with  the 
mind  that  aims  at  them.  I  augur  better  of  a  child,  a  youth  who  is 
wandering  astray  on  a  path  of  his  own,  than  of  many  who  are  walk- 
ing aright  upon  paths  which  are  not  theirs.  If  the  former,  either  by 
themselves,  or  by  the  guidance  of  others,  ever  find  the  right  path, 
that  is  to  say,  the  path  which  suits  their  nature,  they  will  never 
leave  it  ;  while  the  latter  are  in  danger  every  moment  of  shakinj^- 


380  MELSTEU'8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

off  a  foreign  yoke,  and  abandoning  themselves  to  unrestricted 
license. ' " 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  that  this  same  extraordinary  man 
should  likewise  have  taken  charge  of  me  ;  should,  as  it  seems,  have, 
in  his  own  fashion,  if  not  led,  at  least  confirmed  me  in  my  errors,  for 
a  time.  How  he  will  answer  to  the  charge  of  having  joined  with 
others,  as  it  were,  to  make  game  of  me,  I  wait  patiently  to  see." 

"Of  this  whim,  if  it  is  one,"  said  Natalia,  "  I  have  little  reason  to 
complain  ;  of  all  the  family  I  answered  best  with  it.  Indeed,  I  see 
not  how  Lothario  could  have  got  a  finer  breeding  ;  but  for  my  sister, 
the  countess,  some  other  treatment  might  have  suited  better  ;  per- 
haps they  should  have  studied  to  infuse  more  earnestness  and  strength 
into  her  nature.  As  to  brotlier  Friedrich,  what  is  to  become  of  him 
cannot  be  conjectured  :  he  will  fall  a  sacrifice,  I  fear,  to  this  experi- 
ment in  pedagogy. " 

"  You  liave  another  brother,  then  1"  cried  Wilhelm. 

"Yes,"  replied  Natalia  ;  "and  a  light,  merry  youth  he  is  ;  and  as 
they  have  not  hindered  him  from  roaming  up  and  down  the  world,  I 
know  not  what  the  wild,  dissipated  bo}-  will  turn  to.  It  is  a  great 
while  since  I  saw  him.  The  only  thing  which  calms  my  fears  is, 
that  the  abbe,  and  the  whole  society  about  my  brother,  are  receiving 
constant  notice  where  he  is  and  what  he  does." 

Wilhelm  was  about  to  ask  Natalia  her  opinion  more  precisely  on  the 
abba's  paradoxes,  as  well,as  to  solicit  information  about  that  mysteri- 
ous society  ;  but  the  physician  entering  changed  their  conversation. 
After  the  first  compliments  of  welcome,  he  began  to  speak  of  Mignon. 

Natalia  then  took  Felix  by  the  hand,  saying  she  would  lead  the 
child  to  Mignon    and  prepare  her  for  the  entrance  of  her  friend. 

The  doctor,  now  alone  with  Wilhelm,  thus  proceeded:  "I  have 
wondrous  things  to  tell  you  ;  such  as  you  are  not  anticipating.  Nata- 
lia has  retired  that  we  might  speak  with  greater  liberty  of  certain 
matters,  which,  althougli  I  first  learned  them  by  her  means,  her 
presence  would  prevent  us  from  discussing  freely.  The  strange  tem- 
per of  the  child  seems  to  consist  almost  exclusively  of  deep  longing  ; 
the  desire  of  revisiting  her  native  land,  and  the  desire  for  you,  my 
friend,  ai'e,  I  might  almost  say,  tiie  only  earthly  things  about  her. 
Both  these  feelings  do  but  grasp  towards  an  immeasurable  distance, 
both  objects  lie  before  her  unattainable.  The  neighborhood  of  Milan 
seems  to  be  her  home  :  in  very  early  childhood  she  was  kidnapped 
from  her  parents  by  a  company  of  rope-dancers.  A  more  distinct 
account  we  cannot  get  from  her,  partly  because  she  was  then  too 
young  to  recollect  the  names  of  men  and  places,  but  especially  because 
she  lias  made  an  oath  to  tell  no  living  mortal  her  abode  and  parentage. 
For  the  strolling  party,  who  came  up  with  her  when  she  had  lost  her 
way,  and  to  whom  she  so  accurately  described  her  dwelling,  with 
such  piercing  entreaties  to  conduct  her  home,  but  carried  her  along 
^th  them   the   faster  ;  and  at  night  in  tlw^ir  quarters,   when  they 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  III       .  381 

thought  the  child  was  sleeping,  joked  about  their  precious  capture, 
declaring  she  would  never  find  the  way  home  again.  On  this,  a  hor- 
rid desperation  fell  upon  the  miserable  creature  ;  but  at  last  the  Holy 
Virgin  rose  before  her  eyes,  and  promised  that  she  would  assist  her. 
The  child  then  swore  within  herself  a  sacred  oath,  that  she  would 
henceforth  trust  no  human  creature,  would  disclose  her  history  to  no 
one,  but  live  and  die  in  hojie  of  ininiediale  aid  from  Heaven.  Even 
this,  which  I  am  telling  you,  Natalia  did  not  learn  expressly  from 
her  ;  but  gathered  it  from  detached  expressions,  songs  and  childlike 
inadvertencies,  betraying  what  they  meant  to  hide." 

Wilhelm  called  to  memory  many  a  song  and  word  of  this  dear 
child,  which  he  could  now  explain.  He  earnestly  requested  the  phy- 
sician  to  keep  from  him  none  of  the  confessions  or  mysterious  poetry 
of  this  peculiar  being. 

"  Prepare  yourself,"  said  the  physician,  "  for  a  strange  confession  ; 
for  a  story  with  which  you,  without  remembering  it,  have  much  to 
do  ;  and  which,  as  I  greatly  fear,  has  been  decisive  for  the  death  and 
life  of  this  good  creature." 

"  Let  me  hear,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "  my  impatience  is  unbounded." 

"  Do  you  recollect  a  secret  nightly  visit  from  a  female,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  after  your  appearance  in  the  character  of  Hamlet '?  " 

"  Yes,  I  recollect  it  well,"  cried  Wilhelm  blushing,  "  but  I  did  not 
look  to  be  reminded  of  it  at  the  present  moment." 

"  Do  you  know  who  it  was  ?  " 

"  I  do  not !  You  frighten  me  !  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  not  Mig- 
non  surely?     Who  was  it?     Tell  me,  pray." 

"  I  know  it  not  myself." 

"Not  Mignon,  then?" 

"  No,  certainly  not  Mignon  ;  but  Mignon  was  intending  at  the  time 
to  glide  in  to  you  ;  and  saw,  with  horror,  from  a  corner  where  she 
lay  concealed,  a  rival  get  before  her." 

"A  rival  !  "  cried  our  friend  ;  "  speak  on,  you  more  and  more  con- 
found me." 

"  Be  thankful,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  you  can  arrive  at  the  result 
so  soon  through  means  of  me.  Natalia  and  1,  with  but  a  distant  in- 
terest in  the  matter,  had  distress  enough  to  undergo,  before  we  could 
thus  far  discover  the  perplexed  condition  of  the  poor  dear  creature, 
whom  we  wished  to  help.  By  some  wanton  speeches  of  Philina  and 
the  other  girls,  by  a  certain  song  which  she  had  heard  Philina  sing, 
the  child's  attention  had  been  roused  ;  she  longed  to  pass  a  night  be- 
side the  man  she  loved,  without  conceiving  anything  to  be  implied  in 
this  beyond  a  happy  and  confiding  rest.  A  love  for  you,  my  friend, 
was  already  keen  and  powerful  in  her  little  heart  ;  in  your  arms,  the 
child  had  found  repose  from  many  a  sorrow  ;  she  now  desired  this 
happiness  in  all  its  fullness  At  one  time  she  proposed  to  ask  you  for 
it  in  a  friendly  manner  ;  but  a  secret  horror  always  held  her  back. 
At  last,  that  merry  night  find  the  excitement  of  abundant  wine  in- 


382  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

spired  her  with  the  courage  to  attempt  the  adveuture,  and  glide  iu  to 
you  on  that  occasion.  Accordingly  she  ran  before,  to  hide  herself  in 
your  apartment,  which  was  standing  open  ;  but  just  when  she  had 
reached  the  top  of  the  stairs,  having  heard  a  rustling,  she  concealed 
herself,  and  saw  a  female  in  a  white  dress  slip  into  your  chamber. 
You  yourself  arrived  soon  after,  and  she  heard  you  push  the  large 
bolt. 

"Mignon's  agony  was  now  unutterable  ;  all  the  violent  feelings  of 
a  passionate  jealousy  mingled  themselves  with  the  unacknowledged 
longing  of  obscure  desire,  and  seized  her  half-developed  nature  with 
tremendous  force.  Her  heart,  which  had  hitherto  beaten  violently 
with  eagerness  and  expectation,  now  at  once  began  to  falter  and  stop  ; 
it  pressed  her  bosom  like  a  heap  of  lead  ;  she  could  not  draw  her 
breath,  she  knew  not  what  to  do;  she  heard  the  sound  of  the  old 
man's  harp,  hastened  to  the  garret  where  he  was,  and  passed  the 
night  at  his  feet  in  horrible  convulsions." 

The  physician  jsaused  a  moment ;  then,  as  Wilhelm  still  kept 
silence,  he  proceeded  :  "  Natalia  told  me,  nothing  in  her  life  had  so 
alarmed  and  touched  her  as  the  state  of  Mignon  while  relating  this  : 
indeed,  our  noble  friend  accused  herself  of  cruelty  in  having,  by  her 
questions  and  management,  drawn  this  confession  from  her,  and  re- 
newed by  recollection  the  violent  sorrows  of  the  poor  little  girl. 

"  '  The  dear  creature,'  said  Natalia,  '  had  scarcely  come  so  far  with 
her  recital,  or  rather  with  her  answers  to  my  questions,  when  she 
sank  all  at  once  before  me  on  the  ground,  and  with  her  hand  on  her 
bosom  piteously  moaned  that  the  pain  of  that  excruciating  night  was 
come  back.  She  twisted  herself  like  a  worm  upon  the  floor  ;  and  I 
had  to  summon  all  my  composure,  that  1  might  remember  and  apply 
such  means  of  remedy  for  mind  and  body  as  were  known  to  me.'  " 

"  It  is  a  painful  predicament  you  put  me  in,"  cried  Wilhelm,  "  by 
impressing  me  so  vividly  with  the  feeling  of  my  manifold  injustice 
towards  this  unhappy  and  beloved  being,  at  the  very  moment  when  I 
am  again  to  meet  her.  If  she  is  to  see  me,  why  do  you  deprive  me 
of  the  courage  to  appear  with  freedom  V  And  shall  I  confess  it  to 
you  ?  Since  her  mind  is  so  affected,  I  perceive  not  how  my  presence 
can  be  advantageous  to  her.  If  you,  as  a  physician,  are  persuaded 
that  this  double  longing  had  so  undermined  her  being  as  to  threaten 
death,  why  should  I  renew  her  sorrows  by  my  presence,  and  perhaps 
accelerate  her  end  ?" 

"  My  friend,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  where  we  cannot  cure,  it  is  our 
duty  to  alleviate  ;  and  how  much  the  presence  of  a  loved  object 
tends  to  take  from  the  imagination  its  destructive  power,  how  it 
changes  an  impetuous  longing  to  a  peaceful  looking,  I  could  prove 
by  the  most  convincing  instances.  Everything  in  measure  and  with 
purpose  I  For,  in  other  cases,  this  same  presence  may  rekindle  an 
affection  nigh  extinguished.  But  do  you  go  and  see  the  child  ;  be- 
have to  her  with  kindness,  and  let  us  wait  the  consequence." 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  ni.  383 

Natalia,  at  this  moment  coming  back,  bade  VVilhelm  follow  her 
to  Miguon.  "  She  appears  to  feel  quite  happy  with  the  boy,"  ob- 
served Natalia,  "  and  I  hope  she  will  receive  our  friend  with"  mild- 
ness."' Wilhelm  followed,  not  without  reluctance:  he  was  deeply 
moved  by  what  he  had  been  hearing  ;  he  feared  a  stormy  scene  of 
passion.     It  wa.s  altogether  the  reverse  that  happened  on  his  entrance. 

Mignon,  dressed  in  long  white  women's  clothes,  with  her  brown 
copious  hair  partly  knotted,  partly  clustering  out  in  locks,  was  sitting 
with  the  boy  Felix  on  her  lap,  and  pressing  him  against  her  heart. 
She  looked  like  a  departed  spirit,  he  like  life  itself  ;  it  seemed  as  if 
heaven  and  earth  were  clasping  one  another.  She  held  out  her  hand 
to  Wilhelm  with  a  smile,  and  said  :  "  I  thank  thee  for  bringing  back 
the  child  to  me  :  they  had  taken  him  away,  I  know  not  how,  and  since 
then  I  could  not  live.  So  long  as  my  heart  needs  anything  on  earth, 
thy  Felix  shall  fill  up  the  void." 

The  quietness  which  Mignon  had  displayed  on  meeting  with  her 
friend,  produced  no  little  satisfaction  in  the  party.  "The  doctor 
signified  that  Wilhelm  should  go  frequently  and  see  her  ;  that  in 
body  as  in  mind  she  should  be  kept  as  equable  as  possible.  He  him- 
self departed,  promising  to  return  soon. 

Wilhelm  could  now  observe  Natalia  in  her  own  circle  :  one  would 
have  desired  nothing  better  than  to  live  beside  her.  Her  presence 
had  the  purest  influence  on  the  girls,  and  young  ladies  of  various 
ages,  who  resided  with  her  in  the  house,  or  came  to  pay  her  visits 
from  the  neighborhood. 

"  The  progress  of  your  life,"  said  Wilhelm  once  to  her,  "  must 
always  have  been  very  even  ;  your  aunt's  delineation  of  you  in  your 
childhood  seems,  if  I  mistake  not,  still  to  fit.  It  is  easy  to  see,  that 
you  never  were  entangled  in  your  path.  You  have  never  been  com- 
pelled to  retrograde." 

"  This  I  owe  to  my  uncle  and  the  abbe,"  said  Natalia,  "  who  so 
well  discriminated  my  prevailing  turn  of  mind.  From  my  youth 
upwards,  I  can  recollect  no  livelier  feeling  than  that  I  was  con- 
stantly observing  people's  wants,  and  had  an  irresistible  desire  to 
make  them  up.  The  child  that  had  not  learned  to  stand  on  its  feet, 
the  old  man  that  could  no  longer  stand  on  his  ;  the  longing  of  a  rich 
family  for  children,  the  inability  of  a  poor  one  to  maintain  their 
children  ;  each  silent  wish  for  some  particular  species  of  employ- 
ment, the  impulse  towards  any  talent,  the  natural  gifts  for  many 
little  necessary  arts  of  life,  were  sure  to  strike  me  :  my  eye  seemed 
formed  by  nature  for  detecting  them.  I  saw  such  things,  where  no 
one  had  directed  my  attention  ;  I  seemed  born  for  seeing  them  alone. 
The  charms  of  inanimate  nature,  to  which  so  many  persons  are  ex- 
ceedingly susceptible,  had  no  effect  upon  me  ;  the  charms  of  art,  if 
possible,  had  less,  ily  most  delightful  occupation  was  and  is,  when 
a  deficiency,  a  want  appeared  before  me  anywhere,  to  set  about  de- 
vising a  supply,  a  remedy,  a  help  for  it. 


384  MEiSTEB'S  APPBENTIOESHIP. 

"  If  I  saw  a  poor  creature  in  rags,  the  superfluous  clotlies  I  Lad 
noticed  hanging  in  the  wardrobes  of  my  friends  immediately  occurred 
to  me  ;  if  I  saw  children  wasting  for  want  of  care,  I  was  sure  to  recol- 
lect some  lady  I  had  found  oppressed  with  tedium  amid  riches  and 
conveniences  ;  if  I  saw  too  many  persons  crammed  into  a  narrow 
space,  I  thought  they  should  be  lodged  in  the  spacious  chambers  of 
palaces  and  vacant  houses.  This  mode  of  viewing  things  was  alto- 
gether natural,  without  the  least  reflection  ;  so  that  in  my  childhood 
I  often  made  the  strangest  work  of  it,  and  more  than  once  embar- 
rassed people  by  my  singular  proposals.  Another  of  my  peculiarities 
was  this,  I  did  not  learn  till  late,  and  after  many  efforts,  to  consider 
money  as  a  means  of  satisfying  wants  :  my  benefits  were  all  dis- 
tributed in  kind,  and  my  simplicity,  I  know,  was  frequently  the  cause 
of  laughter.  None  but  the  abb6  seemed  to  understand  me  ;  he  met 
me  everywhere  ;  he  made  me  acqiiainied  with  myself,  with  these 
wishes,  these  tendencies,  and  taught  me  how  to  satisfy  them  suitably." 

"Do  you,  then,"  said  Wilhelm,  "in  the  education  of  your  little 
female  world  employ  the  method  of  these  extraordinary  men  ?  Do 
you  too  leave  every  mind  to  form  itself  ?  Do  you  too  leave  your  girls 
to  search  and  wander,  to  pursue  delusions,  happily  to  reach  the  goal, 
or  miserably  lose  themselves  in  error  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  replied  Natalia  :  "  such  treatment  as  that  would  altogether 
contradict  my  notions.  To  my  mind,  he  who  does  not  help  us  at  the 
needful  moment,  never  helps  ;  he  who  does  not  counsel  at  the  need- 
ful moment,  never  counsels.  I  also  reckon  it  essential  that  we  lay 
down  and  continually  impress  on  children  certain  laws,  to  operate  as 
a  kind  of  hold  in  life.  Nay,  I  could  almost  venture  to  assert  that  it 
is  better  to  be  wrong  by  rule,  than  to  be  wrong  with  nothing  but  the 
fitful  caprices  of  our  dispositions  to  impel  us  hither  and  thither  :  and 
in  my  way  of  viewing  men,  there  always  seems  to  be  a  void  in  their 
nature,  which  cannot  be  filled  up,  except  by  some  decisive  and  dis- 
tinctly settled  law." 

"Your  manner  of  proceeding,  then,"  said  Wilhelm,  "is  entirely 
different  from  the  manner  of  our  friends  ?  " 

"Yes,"  rei:)lied  Natalia;  "and  you  may  see  the  unexampled  tol- 
erance of  these  men,  from  the  fact,  that  they  nowise  ^disturb  me  in 
my  practice  ;  but  leave  me  on  my  own  path,  simpl}'  because  it  is  my 
own,  and  even  assist  me  in  everything  that  I  require  of  them." 

A  more  minute  description  of  Natalia's  plans  in  managing  her 
children  we  reserve  for  some  other  opportunity. 

Mignon  often  asked  to  be  of  their  society  ;  and  this  they  granted 
her  with  greater  readiness,  as  she  appeared  to  be  again  accustoming 
herself  to  Wilhelm,  to  be  opening  her  heart  to  him,  and  in  general  to 
have  become  more  cheerful  and  contented  with  existence.  In  walk- 
ing, being  easily  fatigued,  she  liked  to  hang  upon  his  ann.  "  Mig- 
non," she  would  say,  "  now  climbs  and  bounds  no  more;  yet  she 
still  longs  to  mount  the  summit  of  the  hills,  to  skip  from  house  to 


BOOK  VIIL  CHAPTER  IV.  385 

liouse,  from  tree  to  tree.  How  enviable  are  tlie  birds  ;  and  tlien  so 
prettily  and  socially  tliey  build  tbeir  nests  too  !  " 

Ere  long  it  became  habitual  for  her  to  invite  lier  friend,  more  than 
once  every  day,  into  the  garden.  When  Wilhelm  was  engaged  or 
absent,  Felix  had  to  take  his  place  ;  and  if  poor  Mignon  seemed  at 
times  quite  loosened  from  the  earth,  there  were  other  moments  when 
she  would  again  hold  fast  to  father  and  son,  and  seemed  to  dread  a 
separation  from  them  more  than  anything  beside. 

Natalia  wore  a  thoughtful  look.  "  We  meant,"  said  she,  "  to  open 
her  tender  little  heart,  by  sending  for  you  hither.  I  know  not  whether 
we  did  prudently."  She  stopped,  and  seemed  expecting  Wilhelm  to 
say  something.  To  him  also  it  occurred  that  by  his  marriage  with 
Theresa,  Mignon,  in  the  present  circumstances,  would  be  fearfully 
offended  ;  but  in  his  uncertainty,  he  did  not  venture  mentiouiug  his 
project  ;  he  had  no  suspicion  that  Natalia  knew  of  it. 

As  little  could  he  talk  with  freedom,  when  his  noble  friend  began 
to  speak  about  her  sister  ;  to  praise  her  good  qualities,  and  to  lament 
her  hapless  situation.  He  felt  exceedingly  embarrassed  when  Natalia 
told  him  he  would  shortly  see  the  countess  here.  "  Her  husband," 
said  she,  ' '  has  now  no  object  but  replacing  Zinzendorf  in  the  com- 
munity ;  and  by  insight  and  activity  supporting  and  extending  that 
establishment.  He  is  coming  with  his  wife,  to  take  a  sort  of  leave  ; 
he  then  purposes  visiting  the  various  spots  where  the  community 
have  settled.  They  appear  to  treat  him  as  he  wishes  ;  and  I  should 
not  wonder  if,  in  order  to  be  altogether  like  his  predecessor,  ho  ven- 
tured, with  my  sister,  on  a  voyage  to  America  ;  for  being  already 
well-nigh  convinced  that  a  little  more  would  make  a  saint  of  him,  the 
wish  to  superadd  the  dignity  of  martyrdom  has  probably  enough 
often  flitted  throught  his  mind." 


CHAPTER  IV, 


They  had  often  spoken  of  Theresa,  often  mentioned  her  in  passing  ; 
and  Wilhelm  almost  every  time  was  minded  to  confess  that  he  had 
offered  her  his  heart  and  hand.  A  certain  feeling,  which  he  was  not 
able  to  explain,  restrained  him  ;  he  paused  and  wavered,  till  at  length 
Natalia,  with  the  heavenly  modest  cheerful  smile  she  often  wore, 
said  to  him  :  "  It  seems,  then,  I  at  last  must  break  silence,  and  force 
myself  into  your  confidence  !  Why,  my  friend,  do  you  keep  secret 
from  me  an  affair  of  such  importance  to  yourself,  and  so  closely  touch- 
ing my  concerns  1  You  have  made  my  friend  the  offer  of  your  hand. 
I  do  not  mix  uncalled  in  the  transaction  :  here  are  my  credentials  , 
here  is  the  letter  which  she  writes  to  you,  which  she  sends  you 
through  my  hands." 

■    Meister— 13 


880  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  A  letter  from  Theresa  !  "  cried  he. 

"Yes,  mein  herr  !  Your  destiny  is  settled;  you  are  happy.  Let 
me  congratulate  my  friend  and  you  on  your  good  fortune." 

Wilbelm  spoke  not,  but  gazed  out  before  him.  Natalia  looked  at 
him;  she  saw  that  he  was  pale.  "Your  joy  is  strong,"  continued 
she  ;  "  it  takes  the  form  of  terror,  it  deprives  you  of  the  power  to 
speak.  My  participation  is  not  the  less  cordial  that  I  show  it  to  you 
in  words.  I  hope  you  will  be  grateful  ;  for  I  may  say,  my  influ- 
ence on  the  decision  of  your  bride  has  not  been  small  ;  she  asked  me 
for  advice ;  and  as  it  happened,  by  a  singular  coincidence,  that  you 
were  here  just  then,  I  was  enabled  to  destroy  the  few  scruples  she 
still  entertained.  Our  messages  went  swiftly  to  and  fro  :  here  is  her 
determination  ;  here  is  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty  !  And  now  you 
shall  read  her  other  letters,  you  shall  have  a  free  clear  look  into  the 
fair  heart  of  your  Theresa." 

Wilhelm  opened  the  letter,  which  she  handed  him  unsealed.  It 
contained  these  friendly  words  : 

"  I  am  yours,  as  I  am  and  as  you  know  me.  I  call  you  mine,  as 
you  are  and  as  I  know  you.  What  in  ourselves,  what  in  our  connec- 
tion wedlock  changes,  we  shall  study  to  adjust,  by  reason,  cheerful- 
ness and  mutual  good-will.  As  it  is  no  passion,  but  trust  and  inclina- 
tion for  each  other  that  is  leading  us  together,  we  run  less  risk 
than  thousands  of  others.  You  will  forgive  me,  will  you  not,  if  I 
still  think  kindly  of  my  former  friend  ;  in  return,  I  will  press  your 
Felix  to  my  heart,  as  if  I  were  his  mother.  If  you  choose  to  share 
my  little  mansion  straightwa}'',  we  are  lord  and  master  there,  and  in 
the  meanwhile  the  purchase  of  your  land  might  be  concluded.  I 
could  wish  that  no  new  arrangements  were  made  in  it  without  me.  I 
could  wish  at  ouce  to  prove  that  I  deserve  the  confidence  which  you 
repose  in  me.  'Adieu,  dear,  dear  friend  !  Beloved  bridegroom,  hon- 
ored husband  !  Theresa  clasps  you  to  her  breast  with  hope  and  joy. 
My  friend  will  tell  you  more,  will  tell  you  all." 

Wilhelm,  to  whose  mind  this  sheet  recalled  the  image  of  Theresa 
with  the  liveliest  distinctness,  had  now  recovered  his  composure. 
While  reading,  thoughts  had  rapidly  alternated  within  his  soul. 
With  terror,  he  discovered  in  his  heart  tlie  most  vivid  traces  of  an 
inclination  to  Natalia  ;  he  blamed  himself,  declaring  every  thought 
of  that  description  to  be  madness  ;  he  represented  to  himself  Theresa 
in  her  whole  perfection  :  he  again  perused  the  letter,  he  grew  cheer- 
ful, or  rather  he  so  far  regained  his  self-possession  that  he  could  ap- 
pear cheerful.  Natalia  handed  him  the  letters  which  had  passed  be- 
tween Theresa  and  herself  :  out  of  Theresa's  we  propose  extracting 
one  or  two  passages. 

After  delineating  her  bridegroom  in  her  own  peculiar  way,  Theresa 
thus  proceeded  : 

"  Such  is  the  notion  I  have  formed  of  the  man  who  now  offers  me 
his  hand.     What  he  thinks  of  himself  thou  shalt  see  by  and  by,  in 


BOOK   VllL  VHAPTEH.  IV.  887 

the  papers  he  has  sent  me,  where  he  altogether  candidly  draws  his 
own  portrait ;  I  feel  persuaded  that  I  shall  be  happy  with  him." 

"  As  to  rank,  thou  knewest  my  ideas  on  this  point  long  ago.  Some 
people  look  on  disagreement  of  external  circumstances  as  a  fearful 
thing,  and  cannot  remedy  it.  I  wish  not  to  persuade  any  one,  I  wish  to 
act  according  to  my  own  persuasion.  I  mean  not  to  set  others  an  exam- 
ple, nor  do  I  act  without  example.  It  is  interior  disagreements  only 
that  frighten  me  ;  a  frame  that  does  not  fit  what  it  is  meant  to  hold  ; 
much  pomp  and  little  real  enjoyment ;  wealth  and  avarice,  nobility 
and  rudeness,  youth  and  pedantry,  poverty  and  ceremonies, — these 
are  the  things  which  would  annihilate  me,  however  it  may  please  the 
world  to  stamp  and  rate  them." 

"  If  I  hope  that  we  shall  suit  each  other,  the  hope  is  chiefly  founded 
upon  this,  that  he  resembles  thee,  my  dear  Natalia,  thee,  whom  I  so 
highly  prize  and  reverence.  Yes,  he  has  thy  noble  searching  and 
striving  for  the  better,  whereby  we  of  our.selves  produce  the  good 
which  we  suppose  we  find.  How  often  have  I  blamed  thee,  not  in 
silence,  for  treating  this  or  that  person,  for  acting  in  this  or  that  case, 
otherwise  than  I  should  have  done  ;  and  yet  in  general  the  issue 
showed  that  thou  wert  right.  '  When  we  take  people,'  thou  wouldst 
say,  '  merely  as  they  are,  we  make  them  worse  ;  when  we  treat  them 
as  if  they  were  what  they  should  be,  we  improve  them  as  far  as  they 
can  be  improved.'  To  see  or  to  act  thus,  I  know  full  well  is  not  for 
mft.  Skill,  order,  discipline,  direction,  that  is  my  affair.  I  always 
t-ecoUect  what  Jarno  said  :  '  Theresa  trains  her  pupils,  Natalia  forms 
them.'  Nay,  once  he  went  so  far  as  to  assert  that  of  the  three  fair 
qualities,  faith,  love  and  hope,  I  was  entirely  destitute.  '  Instead  of 
faith,'  said  he,  '  she  has  penetration,  instead  of  love  she  has  steadfast- 
ness, instead  of  hope  she  has  trust.'  Indeed  I  will  confess  that  until 
I  knew  thee,  I  knew  nothing  higher  in  the  world  than  clearness  and 
prudence  ;  it  was  thy  presence  only  that  persuaded,  animated,  con- 
quered me  ;  to  thy  fair  lofty  soul  I  willingly  give  place.  My  friend, 
too,  I  honor  on  the  same  principle  ;  the  description  of  his  life  is  a 
perpetual  seeking  without  finding  ;  not  empty  seeking,  but  wondrous 
generous  seeking  ;  he  fancies  others  may  give  him  what  can  proceed 
from  himself  alone.  So,  love,  the  clearness  of  my  vision  has  not 
injured  me,  on  this  occasion,  more  than  others.  I  know  my  hitsband 
better  than  he  knows  himself,  and  I  value  him  the  more.  I  see  him, 
yet  I  see  not  over  him  ;  all  my  skill  will  not  enable  me  to  judge  of 
what  he  can  accomplish.  When  I  think  of  him,  his  image  always 
blends  itself  with  thine.  I  know  not  how  I  have  deserved  to  belong 
to  two  such  persons.  But  I  will  deserve  it,  by  endeavoring  to  do  my 
duty,  by  fulfilling  what  is  looked  for  from  me." 

"If  I  recollect  Lothario?  Vividly  and  daily.  In  the  company 
which  in  thought  surrounds  me,  I  cannot  want  him  for  a  moment. 


388  MEI8TER'8  APPBENT1GE8HIP. 

O,  what  a  pity  for  tliis  noble  character,  related  by  an  error  of  Ins 
youth  to  me,  that  nature  has  related  him  to  thee  !  A  being  such  as 
thou,  in  truth,  were  worthier  of  him  than  I.  To  thee  1  could,  I 
would  surrender  him.  Let  us  be  to  him  all  we  can,  till  he  find  a 
proper  wife  ;  and  then  too  let  us  be,  let  us  abide  together." 

"  But  what  shall  we  say  to  our  friends?"  began  Natalia. — "Your 
brother  does  not  know  of  it?" — "  Not  a  hint  ;  your  people  know  as 
little  :  we  women  have,  on  this  occasion,  managed  the  affair  ourselves. 
Lydia  had  put  some  whims  into  Theresa's  head  concerning  Jarno  and 
the  abbe.  There  are  certain  plans  and  secret  combinations,  with  the 
general  scheme  of  which  I  am  acquainted,  and  into  which  I  never 
thought  of  penetrating  farther.  With  regard  to  these,  Theresa  has, 
through  Lydia,  taken  up  some  shadow  of  suspicion  ;  so  in  this  decis- 
ive step  she  would  not  suffer  any  one  but  me  to  influence  her.  Witli 
my  brother  it  had  been  already  settled,  that  they  should  merely 
announce  their  marriages  to  one  another,  not  giving  or  asking  counsel 
on  the  subject." 

Natalia  wrote  a  letter  to  her  brother  ;  she  invited  Wilhelm  to  sub- 
join a  word  or  two,  Theresa  having  so  desired  it.  They  were  just 
about  to  seal,  when  Jarno  unexpectedly  sent  up  his  name.  His  recep- 
tion was  of  course  as  kind  as  possible  ;  he  wore  a  sportful  merry  air  ; 
he  could  not  long  forbear  to  tell  his  errand.  "  I  am  come,"  said  he, 
' '  to  give  you  very  curious  and  very  pleasing  tidings  :  they  concern 
Theresa.  You  have  often  blamed  us,  fair  Natalia,  for  troubling  our 
heads  about  so  many  things  ;  but  now  you  see  how  good  it  is  to  have 
one's  spies  in  every  place.  Guess,  and  let  us  see  your  skill  for 
once  ! " 

The  self-complacency  with  which  he  spoke  these  words,  the  roguish 
mien  with  which  he  looked  at  Wilhelm  and  Natalia,  persuaded  both 
of  them  that  he  had  found  their  secret.  Natalia  answered  smiling  : 
"  We  are  far  more  skillful  than  you  think.  Before  we  even  heard 
your  riddle,  we  had  put  the  answer  to  it  down  in  black  and  white." 

With  these  words,  she  handed  him  the  letter  to  Lothario  ;  satisfied 
at  having  met,  in  this  way,  the  little  triumph  and  surprise  he  had 
meant  for  them.  Jarno  took  the  sheet  with  some  astonishment  ;  ran 
it  quickly  over  ;  started  ;  let  it  drop  from  his  hands,  and  stared  at 
both  his  friends  with  an  expression  of  amazement,  nay,  of  fright, 
which  on  his  countenance  was  rare.     He  spoke  no  word. 

Wilhelm  and  Natalia  were  not  a  little  struck  ;  Jarno  stepped  up 
and  down  the  room.  "What  shall  I  say?"  cried  he  ;  "or  shall  I 
say  it  at  all  ?  But  it  must  come  out  ;  the  perplexity  is  not  to  be 
avoided.  So  secret  for  secret  ;  surprise  against  surprise  !  Theresa 
is  not  the  daughter  of  her  reputed  mother  !  The  hindrance  is  re^ 
moved  ;  I  came  to  ask  you  to  prepare  her  for  a  marriage  with  Lo- 
thario." 

Jarno  saw  the  shock  which  he  had  given  his  friends  ;  they  cas^ 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  TV.  389 

their  eyes  upon  the  ground.  "  The  present  case,"  said  he,  "is  one 
of  those  wliich  are  worse  to  bear  in  company.  What  each  has  to 
consider  in  it,  lie  considers  best  in  solitude  ;  I  at  least  require  an  hour 
of  leave."  He  hastened  to  the  garden  ;  Wilhelm  followed  him  me- 
chanically, yet  without  approaching  near. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour,  they  were  again  assembled.  Wilhelm 
opened  the  conversation  :  "  Formerly,"  said  he,  "  while  I  was  living 
without  plan  or  object,  in  a  state  of  carelessness,  or  I  may  say  of  levity, 
friendship,  love,  affection,  trust  came  towards  me  with  open  arms, 
they  pressed  themselves  upon  me  ;  but  now  when  I  am  serious,  des- 
tiny appears  to  take  another  course  with  me.  This  resolution,  of 
soliciting  Theresa's  hand,  is  probably  the  first  that  has  proceeded 
altogether  from  myself.  I  laid  my  plan  considerately  ;  my  reason 
fully  joined  in  it  ;  by  the  consent  of  that  noble  maiden  all  my  hopes 
were  crowned.  But  now  the  strangest  fate  puts  back  my  outstretched 
hand  ;  Theresa  reaches  hers  to  me,  but  from  afar,  as  in  a  dream  ;  I 
cannot  grasp  it ;  and  the  lovely  image  leaves  me  forever.  So  fare 
thee  well,  thou  lovely  image  !  and  all  ye  images  of  richest  happiness 
that  gathered  round  it !  "   - 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  looking  out  before  him  ;  Jamo  was 
about  to  speak  "  Let  me  have  another  word,"  cried  W^ilhelm,  "for 
the  lot  is  drawing  which  is  to  decide  the  destiny  of  all  my  life.  At 
this  moment  I  am  aided  and  confirmed  by  the  impression  which 
Lothario's  presence  made  upon  me  at  the  first  glance,  and  which  has 
ever  since  continued  with  me.  That  man  well  merits  every  sort  of 
friendship  and  affection  ;  and  without  sacrifices  friendship  cannot  be 
imagined.  For  his  sake  it  was  easy  for  me  to  delude  a  hapless  girl  ; 
for  his  sake  it  shall  be  possible  for  me  to  give  away  the  worthiest 
bride.  Return,  relate  the  strange  occurrence  to  him,  and  tell  him 
what  I  am  prepared  for. " 

"In  emergencies  like  this,"  said  Jamo,  "  I  hold  that  everything  is 
done,  if  one  do  nothing  rashly.  Let  us  take  no  step  till  Lothario  has 
agreed  to  it.  I  will  go  to  him  ;  wait  patiently  for  my  return,  or  for 
his  letter." 

He  rode  away  ;  and  left  his  friends  in  great  disquiet.  They  had 
time  to  reconsider  these  events,  to  think  of  them  maturely.  It  now 
first  occurred  to  them,  that  they  had  taken  Jarno's  statement  simply 
by  itself,  and  without  inquiring  into  any  of  the  circumstances.  Wil- 
helm was  not  altogether  free  from  doubts  ;  but  next  day,  their  aston- 
ishment, nay,  their  bewilderment,  arose  still  higher,  when  a  messenger 
arriving  from  Theresa,  brought  the  following  letter  to  Natalia  : 

"  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  after  all  the  letters  I  have  sent,  I  am 
obliged  to  send  another,  begging  that  thou  wouldst  dispatch  my 
bridegroom  to  me  instantly.  He  shall  be  my  husband,  what  plans 
soever  they  may  lay  to  rob  me  of  him.  Give  him  the  inclosed  letter  ; 
only  not  before  witnesses,  whoever  they  may  be  !  " 

The  inclosed  letter  was  as  follows  :  "  What  opinion  will  you  form 


390  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  your  Theresa,  when  you  see  her  all  at  once  insisting  passionately 
on  a  union  which  calm  reason  alone  appeared  to  have  appointed? 
Let  nothing  hinder  you  from  setting  out  the  moment  you  have  read 
this  letter.  Come,  my  dear,  dear  friend  ;  now  three  times  dearer, 
since  they  are  attempting  to  deprive  me  of  you." 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  cried  Wilhelm,  after  he  had  read  the  letter. 

"  In  no  case  that  1  remember,"  said  Natalia,  after  some  reflection, 
"have  my  heart  and  judgment  been  so  dumb  as  in  the  present  oije  ; 
what  to  do  or  to  advise  I  know  not." 

"Can  it  be,"  cried  Wilhelm  vehemently,  "  that  Lothario  does  not 
know  of  it  ;  or  if  he  does,  that  he  is  but  like  us,  the  sport  of  hidden 
plans  1  Has  Jarno,  when  he  saw  our  letter,  devised  that  fable  on  the 
spot  ?  Would  he  have  told  us  something  different,  if  we  had  not 
been  so  precipitate  ?  What  can  they  mean  ?  W^hat  intentions  can 
they  have?  What  plan  can  Theresa  mean?  Yes,  it  must  be  owned, 
Lothario  is  begirt  with  secret  influences  and  combinations  ;  I  myself 
have  found  that  they  are  active,  that  they  take  a  certain  charge  of 
the  proceedings,  of  the  destiny  of  several  people,  and  contrive  to 
guide  them.  The  ulterior  objects  of  these  mysteries  I  know  not  ; 
but  their  nearest  purpose,  that  of  snatching  my  Theresa  from  me,  I 
perceive  but  too  distinctly.  On  the  one  hand,  this  prospect  of  Lo- 
thario's happiness  which  they  exhibit  to  me  may  be  but  a  hollow 
show  ;  on  the  other  hand,  I  see  my  dear,  my  honored  bride  inviting 
me  to  her  affection.     What  shall  I  do?     What  shall  I  forbear?" 

"  A  little  patience  !  "  said  Natalia  ;  '•  a  little  time  for  thought  !  In 
these  singular  perplexities,  I  know  but  this,  that  what  can  never  be 
recalled  should  not  be  done  in  haste.  To  a  fable,  to  an  artful  plan  we 
have  steadfastness  and  prudence  to  oppose  :  whether  Jarno  has  been 
speaking  true  or  false  must  soon  appear.  If  my  brother  has  actually 
hopes  of  a  connection  with  Theresa,  it  were  hard  to  cut  him  off  for- 
ever from  that  prospect,  at  the  moment  when  it  seems  so  kindly  in- 
viting him.  Let  us  wait  at  least  till  we  discover  whether  he  himself 
knows  anything  of  it,  whether  he  believes  and  hopes." 

These  prudent  counsels  were  confirmed  by  a  letter  from  Lothario. 
"  I  do  not  send  Jarno,"  he  wrote  :  "a  line  from  my  hand  is  more  to 
thee  than  the  minutest  narrative  in  the  mouth  of  a  messenger.  I  am 
certain  Theresa  is  not  the  daughter  of  her  reputed  mother  :  and  I 
cannot  renounce  hope  of  being  hers,  till  she  too  is  persuaded,  and  can 
then  decide  between  my  friend  and  me  with  calm  consideration.  Let 
him  not  leave  thee,  I  entreat  it  !  The  happiness,  the  life  of  a  brother 
is  at  stake.     I  pi'omise  thee,  this  uncertainty  shall  not  be  long." 

"You  see  how  the  matter  stands,"  said  she  to  Wilhelm,  with  a 
friendly  air;  "give  me  your  word  of  honor  that  you  will  not  leave 
the  house !  " 

"  I  give  it  !  "  cried  he,  stretching  out  his  hand  :  "  I  will  not  leave 
this  house  against  your  will.  I  thank  Heaven,  and  my  better  genius, 
that  on  this  occasion  I  am  led,  and  led  by  you." 


BOOK  VIIL  CHAPTER  IV.  391 

Natalia  wrote  Theresa  an  account  of  everything  ;  declaring  that  she 
would  not  let  her  friend  away.     She  sent  Lothario's  letter  also. 

Theresa  answered  :  "I  wonder  not  a  little  that  Lothario  i.s  himself 
convinced  :  to  his  sister  he  would  not  feign  to  this  extent.  I  am 
vexed,  greatly  vexed.  It  is  better  that  I  say  no  more.  But  I  will 
come  to  thee,  so  soon  as  I  have  got  poor  Lydia  settled  :  they  are  treat- 
ing her  cruelly.  I  fear  we  are  all  betrayed,  and  shall  be  so  betrayed 
that  we  shall  never  reach  the  truth.  If  my  friend  were  of  my  opinion, 
he  would  give  thee  the  slip  after  all,  and  throw  himself  into  the  arms 
of  his  Theresa,  whom  none  shall  take  away  from  him.  But  I,  as  I 
dread,  shall  lose  him,  and  not  regain  Lothario.  From  the  latter 
they  are  taking  Lydia,  by  showing  him  afar  off  the  prospect  of  ob- 
taining me.  I  will  say  no  more  :  the  entanglement  will  grow  still 
deeper.  Whether,  in  the  meantime,  these  beautiful  relations  to  each 
other  may  not  be  so  pushed  aside,  so  undermined  and  broken  down, 
that  when  the  darkness  passes  off,  the  mischief  shall  no  longer  admit 
of  remedy,  time  will  show.  If  my  friend  do  not  tear  himself  away, 
in  a  few  days  I  myself  will  come  and  seek  him  out  beside  thee,  and 
hold  him  fast.  Thou  marvelest  how  this  passion  can  have  gained  the 
mastery  of  thy  Theresa.  It  is  no  passion,  but  conviction  ;  it  is^  a 
belief  that  since  Lothario  can  never  be  mine,  this  new  friend  will 
make  me  happy.  Tell  him  so,  in  the  name  of  the  little  boy  that  sat 
with  him  underneath  the  oak,  and  thanked  him  for  his  sympathy. 
Tell  it  him  in  the  name  of  Theresa,  who  met  his  offers  in  a  hearty 
openness.  My  first  dream  of  living  with  Lothario  has  wandered  far 
away  from  my  soul ;  the  dream  of  living  with  my  other  friend  is  yet 
wholly  present  to  me.  Do  they  hold  me  so  light,  as  to  think  that  it 
were  easy  to  exchange  the  former  with  the  latter  ?  " 

"  I  depend  on  you,"  said  Natalia  to  Wilhelm,  handing  him  the 
letter  :  "  you  will  not  leave  me.  Consider  that  the  comfort  of  my  life  is 
in  your  hands.  My  being  is  so  intimately  bound  and  interwoven  with 
my  brother's  that  he  feels  no  sorrow  which  I  do  not  feel,  no  joy  whiclx 
does  not  likewise  gladden  me.  Nay,  I  may  truly  say,  through  him 
alone  I  have  experienced  that  the  heart  can  be  affected  and  exalted  : 
that  in  the  world  there  may  be  joy,  love  and  an  emotion  which  con- 
tents the  soul  beyond  its  utmost  want." 

She  stopped;  Wilhelm  took  her  hand  and  cried:  "O  continue! 
This  is  the  time  for  a  true  mutual  disclosure  of  our  thoughts  :  it 
never  was  more  necessary  for  us  to  be  well  acquainted  with  each 
other." 

"Yes,  my  friend!  "said  she,  smiling,  with  her  quiet,  soft,  inde- 
scribable dignity  ;  "  perhaps  it  is  not  out  of  season,  if  I  tell  you  that 
the  whole  of  wlxat  so  many  books,  of  what  the  world  holds  up  to  us 
and  names  love,  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  fable." 

"  You  have  never  loved?"  cried  Wilhelm. 

"  Never,  or  always  !  "  said  Natalia. 


392  MEISTEB  'S  APPBENTIGE8EIP. 


CHAPTER  V, 

DtmiNG  this  conversation,  tliey  kept  walking  up  and  down  the  gar- 
den, and  Natalia  gathered  various  flowers  of  singular  forms,  entirely 
unknown  to  Wilhelm,  who  began  to  ask  their  names,  and  occupy 
himself  about  them. 

"You  know  not,"  said  Natalia,  "for  whom  I  have  been  plucking 
these  !  I  intend  them  for  my  uncle,  whom  we  are  to  visit.  The  sun 
is  shining  eveu  now  so  bright  on  the  hall  of  the  past,  I  must  lead 
you  in,  this  moment  ;  and  I  never  go  to  it  without  a  few  of  the  flowers 
which  my  uncle  liked  particularly,  in  my  hand.  He  was  a  peculiar 
man,  susceptible  of  very  strange  impressions.  For  certain  plants  and 
animals,  for  certain  neighborhoods  and  persons,  nay,  for  certain  sorts 
of  minerals,  he  had  an  especial  love,  which  he  was  rarely  able  to 
explain.  '  Had  I  not,'  he  would  often  say,  '  from  youth,  withstood 
myself,  and  striven  to  form  my  judgment  upon  wide  and  general 
principles,  I  had  been  the  narrowest  and  most  intolerable  person  liv- 
ing. For  nothing  can  be  more  intolerable  than  circumscribed  pecu- 
liarity, in  one  from  whom  a  pure  and  suitable  activity  might  be 
required.'  And  yet  he  was  obliged  to  confess,  that  life  and  breath 
would  almost  leave  him,  if  he  did  not  now  and  then  indulge  himself, 
not  from  time  to  time  allow  himself  a  brief  and  jiassionate  enjoyment 
of  what  he  could  not  always  praise  and  justify.  '  It  is  not  my  fault,' 
said  he,  '  if  I  have  not  brought  my  inclinations  and  my  reason  into 
perfect  harmony.'  On  such  occasions  he  would  joke  with  me,  and 
say  :  '  Natalia  may  be  looked  upon  as  happy  while  she  lives  :  her 
nature  asks  nothing  which  the  world  does  not  wish  and  use.' " 

So  speaking,  they  arrived  again  at  the  house.  Natalia  led  him 
through  a  spacious  passage  to  a  door,  before  which  lay  two  granite 
Sphinxes.  The  door  itself  was  in  the  Egyptian  fashion,  somewhat 
narrower  above  tban  below  ;  and  its  brazen  leaves  prepared  one  for  a 
serious  or  even  a  gloomy  feeling.  Wilhelm  was,  in  consequence, 
agreeably  surprised,  when  his  expectation  issued  in  a  sentiment  of 
pure,  cheerful  serenity,  as  he  entered  a  hall,  where  art  and  life  took 
away  all  recollection  of  death  and  the  grave.  In  the  walls  all  round, 
a  series  of  proportionable  arches  had  been  hollowed  out,  and  large 
sarcophaguses  stood  in  them  :  among  the  jiillars  in  the  intervals 
between  them,  smaller  openings  might  be  seen,  adorned  with  urns 
and  similar  vessels.  The  remaining  spaces  of  the  walls  and  vaulted 
roof  were  regularly  divided,  and  between  bright  and  variegated  bor- 
ders, within  garlands  and  other  ornaments,  a  multitude  of  cheerful 
and  significant  figures  had  been  painted,  upon  rounds  of  different 
sizes.  The  body-of  the  edifice  was  covered  with  that  fine  yellow 
marble,  which  passes  into  reddish  ;  clear  blue  stripes  of  a  chemical 


BOOK  VTII.  CHAPTER  V.  393 

substance  happily  imitating  lapis-lazuli,  while  they  satisfied  the  eye 
with  contrast,  gave  unity  and  combination  to  the  whole.  All  this 
pomp  and  decoration  showed  itself  in  the  chastest  architectural 
forms  ;  and  thus  every  one  who  entered  felt  as  if  exalted  above  him- 
self, while  the  co-operating  products  of  art,  for  the  first  time,  taught 
him  what  man  is  and  what  he  may  become. 

Opposite  the  door,  on  a  stately  sarcophagus,  lay  a  marble  figure  of 
a  noble-looking  man,  reclined  upon  a  pillow.  He  held  a  roll  before 
him,  and  seemed  to  look  at  it  with  still  attention.  It  was  placed  so 
that  you  could  read  with  ease  the  words  which  stood  there  :  Think  of 
living. 

Natalia  took  away  a  withered  bunch  of  flowers,  and  laid  the  fresh 
ones  down  before  the  figure  of  her  uncle.  For  it  was  her  uncle  whom 
the  marble  represented.  Wilhelm  thought  he  recognized  the  features 
of  the  venerable  gentleman  whom  he  had  seen  wlien  lying  wounded 
in  the  green  of  the  forest.  "  Here  he  and  I  passed  many  an  hour," 
said  Natalia,  "  while  the  hall  was  getting  ready.  In  his  latter  years, 
he  had  gathered  several  skillful  artists  round  him  ;  and  his  chief 
delight  was  to  invent  or  superintend  the  drawings  and  cartoons  for 
these  pictures." 

Wilhelm  could  not  satisfy  himself  with  looking  at  the  objects  which 
surrounded  him.  "  What  a  life,"  exclaimed  he,  "in  this  hall  of  the 
past  !  One  might  with  equal  j  ustice  name  it  hall  of  the  present  and 
the  future.  Such  all  were,  such  all  will  be.  There  is  nothing  transi- 
tory but  the  individual  who  looks  at  and  enjoys  it.  Here,  this  figure 
of  the  mother  pressing  her  infant  to  her  bosom,  will  sur\-ive  many 
generations  of  happy  mothers.  Centuries  hence,  perhaps  some  father 
will  take  pleasure  in  contemplating  this  bearded  man,  who  has  laid 
aside  his  seriousness,  and  is  playing  with  his  son.  Thus  shamefaced 
will  the  bride  sit  for  ages,  and  amid  her  silent  wishes,  need  that  she 
be  comforted,  that  she  be  spoken  to  ;  thus  impatient  will  the  bride- 
groom listen  on  the  threshold  whether  he  may  enter." 

The  figures  Wilhelm  was  surveying  with  such  rapture  were  of 
almost  boundless  number  and  variety.  From  the  first  jocund  impulse 
of  the  child,  merely  to  employ  its  every  limb  in  sport,  up  to  the 
peaceful  sequestered  earnestness  of  the  sage,  you  might,  in  fair  and 
living  order,  see  delineated  how  man  possesses  no  capacity  or 
tendency  without  employing  and  enjoying  it.  From  the  first  soft 
conscious  feeling,  when  the  maiden  lingers  in  pulling  up  her  pitcher, 
and  looks  with  satisfaction  at  her  image  in  the  clear  fountain,  to 
those  high  solemnities  when  kings  and  nations  invoke  the  gods  at 
the  altar  to  witness  their  alliances,  all  was  depicted,  all  was  forcible 
and  full  of  meaning. 

It  was  a  world,  it  was  a  heaven,  that  in  this  abode  surrounded  the 
spectator  ;  and  beside  the  thoughts  which  those  polished  forms  sug- 
gested, beside  the  feelings  they  awoke,  there  still  seemed  something 
farther  to  be  present,  something  by  which  the  whole  man  felt  him- 


394  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

v,eU  laid  liold  of.  Willielm  too  observed  this,  though  unable  to 
account  for  it.  "  What  is  this,"  exclaimed  he,  "  which,  independ- 
ently of  all  signilicalion,  without  any  sympathy  that  human  incidents 
and  fortunes  may  inspire  us  with,  acts  on  me  so  strongly  and  so 
gracefully  '!  Jt  speaks  to  me  from  the  whole,  it  speaks  from  every 
part  ;  though  1  have  not  fully  understood  the  former,  though  I  do 
not  specially  apply  the  latter  to  myself  !  What  enchantment  breathes 
from  these  surfaces,  these  lines,  these  heights  and  breadths,  these 
masses  and  coloi-s  !  What  is  it  tliat  makes  these  figures  so  delight- 
ful, even  when  slightly  viewed,  and  merely  in  the  light  of  decora- 
tions V  Yes,  I  feel  it  :  one  might  tarry  here,  might  rest,  might  view 
the  whole,  and  be  happy  ;  and  yet  feel  and  think  something  alto- 
gether different  from  aught  that  stood  before  his  eyes." 

And  certainly  if  we  were  able  to  describe  how  happily  the  whole 
was  subdivided,  how  everything  determined  by  its  place,  by"  combina- 
tion or  by  contrast,  by  uniformity  or  by  variety,  appeared  exactly 
as  it  should  have  done,  producing  an  effect  as  perfect  as  distinct,  we 
should  transport  the  reader  to  a  scene,  from  which  he  would  not  be  in 
haste  to  stir. 

Four  large  marble  candelabra  rose  in  the  corners  of  the  hall  ;  four 
smaller  ones  were  in  the  midst  of  it,  around  a  very  beautifully  worked 
sarcophagus,  which,  judging  from  its  size,  might  once  have  held  a 
young  person  of  middle  stature. 

Natalia  paused  beside  this  monument  ;  she  laid  her  hand  upon  it 
as  she  said  :  "  My  worthy  uncle  had  a  great  attachment  to  this  fine 
antique.  'It  is  not,'  he  would  often  say,  'the  first  blossoms  alone 
that  drop  ;  such  you  can  keep  above  in  these  little  spaces  ;  but  fruits 
also,  which,  hanging  on  their  twigs,  long  give  us  the  fairest  hope, 
whilst  a  secret  worm  is  preparing  their  too  early  ripeness  and  their 
quick  decay.'  I  fear,"  continued  she,  "  his  words  have  been  pro- 
phetic of  that  dear  little  girl,  who  seems  withdrawing  gradually  from 
our  cares,  and  bending  to  this  peaceful  dwelling." 

As  they  were  about  to  go,  Natalia  stopped  and  said  :  ' '  There  is 
something  still  which  merits  your  attention.  Observe  these  half-round 
openings  aloft  on  both  sides.  Here  the  choir  can  stand  concealed 
while  singing ;  these  iron  ornaments  below  the  cornice  serve  for 
fastening  on  the  tapestry,  which,  by  order  of  my  uncle,  must  be  hung 
round  at  every  burial.  Music,  particularly  song,  was  a  pleasure  he 
could  not  live  without  ;  and  it  Avas  one  of  his  peculiarities  that  he 
wished  the  singer  not  to  be  in  view.  '  In  this  respect, '  he  would  say, 
'they  spoil  us  at  the  theater;  the  music  there  is,  as  it  were,  sub- 
servient to  the  eye  ;  it  accompanies  movements,  not  emotions.  In 
oratories  and  concerts,  the  form  of  the  musician  constantly  disturbs 
us  :  true  music  is  intended  for  the  ear  alone  ;  a  fine  voice  is  the  most 
universal  thing  that  can  be  figured  ;  and  while  the  narrow  individual 
that  iises  it  presents  himself  before  the  eye,  he  cannot  fail  to  trouble 
the  effect  of  that  universality.     The  person  who  I  am  to  speak  'with, 


:BOOK  Tin.  CHAPTER  V.  395 

1  must  see,  because  it  is  a  solitary  man,  whose  form  and  cliaracter 
gives  worth  or  worthlessness  to  what  he  says  ;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  whoever  sings  to  me  must  be  invisible  ;  his  form  must  not  con- 
fuse me,  or  cerrupt  my  judgment.  Here,  it  is  but  one  human  organ 
speaking  to  another  ;  it  is  not  spirit  speaking  to  spirit,  not  a  thousand- 
fold world  to  the  eye,  not  a  heaven  to  the  man.'  On  the  same  prin- 
ciples, in  respect  of  instrumental  music,  he  required  that  the  orchestra 
should  as  much  as  possible  be  hid  ;  because  by  the  mechanical  exer- 
tions, by  the  mean  and  awkward  gestures  of  the  performers,  our 
feelings  are  so  much  dispersed  and  perplexed.  Accordingly  he  always 
used  to  shut  his  eyes  while  hearing  music  ;  thereby  to  "concentrate 
his  whole  being  on  the  single  pure  enjoyment  of  the  ear." 

They  were  about  to  leave  the  hall,  when  they  heard  the  children 
running  hastily  along  the  passage,  and  Felix  crying  :  "  Xo,  I !  Xo,  I  !  " 

Mignon  rushed  in  at  the  open  door  :  she  was  foremost,  but  out  of 
breath,  and  could  not  speak  a  word.  Felix,  still  at  some  distance, 
shouted  out  :  "  Mamma  Theresa  is  come  !  "  The  children  had  run 
a  race,  as  it  seemed,  to  bring  the  news.  Mignon  was  lying  in  Nata- 
lia's arms,  her  heart  was  beating  fiercely. 

"  Naughty  child,"  said  Natalia  :  "  art  thou  not  forbidden  violent 
motions  ?     See  how  thy  heart  is  beating  ! " 

"  Let  it  break  !  "  said  Mignon  with  a  deep  sigh  :  "it  has  beat  too 
long." 

They  had  scarcely  composed  themselves  from  this  surprise,  this  sort 
of  consternation,  when  Theresa  entered.  She  flew  to  Natalia  ;  clasped 
her  and  Mignon  in  her  arms.  Then  turning  round  to  Wilhelm,  she 
looked  at  him  with  her  clear  eyes,  and  said  :  "  Well,  my  friend,  how 
is  it  with  you '?  You  have  not  let  them  cheat  you  ?  "  He  made  a  step 
towards  her  ;  she  sprang  to  him,  and  hung  upon  his  neck.  ' '  0  my 
Theresa  !  "  cried  he. 

"  My  friend,  my  love,  my  husband  !  Yes,  forever  thine  !  "  cried 
she,  amid  the  warmest  kisses. 

Felix  pulled  her  by  the  gown,  and  cried  :  "  Mamma  Theresa,  I  sq^ 
here  too  ! "  Natalia  stood,  and  looked  before  her.  Mignon  on  a 
sudden  clapped  her  left  hand  on  her  heart,  and  stretching  out  the 
right  arm  violently,  fell  with  a  shriek  at  Natalia's  feet,  as  dead. 

The  fright  was  great  :  no  motion  of  the  heart  or  pulse  was  to  be 
traced.  Wilhelm  took  her  on  his  arm,  and  hastily  carried  her  away  ; 
tlie  body  hung  lax  over  his  shoulders.  The  presence  of  the  doctor 
was  of  small  avail  ;  he  and  the  young  surgeon,  whom  we  know 
already,  strove  in  vain.  The  dear  little  creature  could  not  be  recalled 
to  life. 

Natalia  beckoned  to  Theresa  :  the  latter  took  her  friend  by  the  hand 
and  led  him  from  the  room.  He  was  dumb,  not  uttering  a  word  ;  he 
durst  not  meet  her  eyes.  He  sat  down  with  her  upon  the  sofa,  where 
he  had  first  found  Natalia.  He  thought  with  great  rapidity  along  a 
series  of  fateful  incidents,  or  rather  he  did  not  think,  but  let  his  soul 


396  MEISTEB'8  APPBENTIGESMP. 

be  worked  on  by  tlie  tliouglits  which  would  not  leave  it.  There  are 
moments  in  life,  when  past  events,  like  winged  shuttles,  dart  to  and 
fro  before  us,  and  by  their  incessant  movements  weave  a  web,  which 
we  ourselves,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  have  spun*  and  put  upon 
the  loom.  "My  friend,  my  love  !"  said  Theresa,  breaking  silence, 
as  she  took  him  by  the  hand.  "  Let  us  stand  together  firmly  in  this 
hour,  as  we  perhaps  shall  often  have  to  do  in  similar  hours.  These 
are  occurrences  which  it  takes  two  united  hearts  to  suffer.  Think, 
my  friend,  feel  that  thou  art  not  alone  ;  show  that  thou  lovest  thy 
Theresa  by  imparting  thy  sorrows  to  her  !  "  She  embraced  him  and 
drew  him  softly  to  her  bosom  :  he  clasped  her  in  his  arms  and  pressed 
her  strongly  towards  him.  "The  poor  child,"  cried  he,  "used  in 
mournful  moments  to  seek  shelter  and  protection  in  my  unstable 
bosom  :  let  the  stability  of  thine  assist  me  in  this  heavy  hour."  They 
held  each  other  fast  ;  he  felt  her  heart  beat  against  his  breast ;  but  in 
his  spirit  all  was  desolate  and  void  ;  only  the  figures  of  Mignon  and 
Natalia  flitted  like  shadows  across  the  waste  of  his  imagination. 

Natalia  entered.  "Give  us  thy  blessing  !"  cried  Theresa.  "Let 
us,  in  this  melancholy  moment,  be  united  before  thee  ! "  Wilhelm 
had  hid  his  face  upon  Theresa's  neck  :  he  was  so  far  relieved  that  he 
could  weep.  He  did  not  hear  Natalia  come  ;  he  did  not  see  her  ;  but 
at  the  sound  of  her  voice  his  tears  redoubled.  "  What  God  has  joined 
I  will  not  part,"  she  answered,  smiling  ;  "  but  to  unite  you  is  not  in 
my  power  ;  nor  am  I  gratified  to  see  that  sorrow  and  sympathy  seem 
altogether  to  have  banished  from  your  hearts  the  recollection  of  my  - 
brother."  At  these  words,  Wilhelm  started  from  Theresa's  arms. 
' '  Whither  are  you  going  ?  "  cried  the  ladies.  ' '  Let  me  see  the  child ," 
said  he,  "whom  I  have  killed  !  Misfortune  when  we  look  upon  it 
with  our  eyes  is  smaller  than  when  our  imagination  sinks  the  evil 
down  into  the  recesses  of  the  soul.  Let  us  view  the  departing  angel  ! 
Her  serene  countenance  will  say  to  us  that  it  is  well  with  her."  As 
his  friends  could  not  restrain  the  agitated  youth,  they  followed  him  ; 
but  the  worthy  doctor  with  the  surgeon  met  them,  and  prevented 
them  from  coming  near  the  dead.  "  Keep  away  from  this  mournful 
object,"  said  he  ;  "  and  allow  me,  so  far  as  I  am  able,  to  give  some 
continuance  to  these  remains.  On  this  dear  and  singular  being  I  will 
now  display  the  beautiful  art  not  only  of  embalming  bodies,  but  of 
retaining  in  them  a  look  of  life.  As  I  foresaw  her  death,  the  prepa- 
rations are  already  made  ;  with  these  helps  I  shall  undoubtedly  suc- 
ceed. Give  me  but  a  few  days,  and  ask  not  to  see  the  child  again 
till  I  have  brought  her  to  the  hall  of  the  past." 

The  young  surgeon  had  in  his  hands  that  well-known  case  of  in- 
struments. "  From  whom  can  he  have  got  it?  "  Wilhelm  asked  the 
doctor.  "  I  know  it  very  well,"  replied  Natalia:  "he  has  it  from 
his  father,  who  dressed  your  wounds  when  we  found  you  in  the 
forest. " 

"Then   I  have  not  been  mistaken!     I  recognized  the   band  at 


BOOK  VIIL  CHAPTER  V.  397 

once  !  "  cried  Wilbelm.  "  O  get  it  for  me  !  It  was  this  that  first 
gave  me  any  hint  of  my  unknown  benefactress.  What  weal  and  woe 
will  such  a  thing  survive  !  Beside  how  many  sorrows  has  this  band 
already  been,  and  its  threads  still  hold  together  !  How  many  men's 
last  moments  has  it  witnessed,  and  its  colors  are  not  yet  faded  !  It 
was  near  me  in  one  of  the  fairest  hours  of  my  existence,  when  I  lay 
wounded  on  the  ground,  and  your  helpful  form  appeared  before  me, 
and  the  child  whom  we  are  now  lamenting  sat  with  its  bloody  hair, 
busied  with  the  tenderest  care  to  save  my  life  !  " 

It  was  not  long  that  our  friends  could  converse  about  this  sad  oc- 
currence ;  that  Theresa  could  inquire  about  the  child,  and  the  proba- 
ble cause  of  its  unexpected  death  ;  for  strangers  were  announced  ; 
who,  on  making  their  appearance,  proved  to  be  well-known  strangers. 
Lothario,  Jarno  and  the  abbe  entered.  Natalia  met  her  brother  : 
among  the  rest  there  was  a  momentary  silence.  Theresa,  smiling 
on  Lothario,  said:  "You  scarcely  expected  to  find  me  here;  of 
course,  it  would  not  have  been  advisable  that  we  should  visit  one 
another  at  the  present  time  :  however,  after  such  an  absence,  take 
my  cordial  welcome." 

Lothario  took  her  hand,  and  answered  :  "  If  we  are  to  suffer  and 
renounce,  it  may  as  well  take  place  in  the  presence  of  the  object 
whom  we  love  and  wish  for.  I  desire  no  infiuence  on  your  de- 
termination ;  my  confidence  in  your  heart,  in  your  understanding  and 
clear  sense,  is  still  so  great,  that  I  willingly  commit  to  your  disposal 
my  fate  and  that  of  my  friend." 

The  conversation  turned  immediately  to  general,  nay,  we  may  say, 
to  trivial  topics.  The  company  soon  separated  into  single  pairs,  for 
walking.  Natalia  was  with  her  brother  ;  Theresa  with  the  abbe  ; 
our  friend  was  left  with  Jarno  in  the  castle. 

The  appearance  of  the  guests  at  the  moment  when  a  heavy  sorrow 
was  oppressing  Wilhelm,  had,  instead  of  dissipating  his  attention, 
irritated  him  and  made  him  worse  :  he  was  fretful  and  suspicious, 
and  unable  or  uncareful  to  conceal  it,  when  Jarno  qnestioued  him 
about  his  sulky  silence.  "  What  is  the  use  of  saying  more  1  "  cried 
Wilhelm.  "  Lothario  with  his  helpers  is  come  ;  and  it  were  strange 
if  those  mysterious  watchmen  of  the  tower,  who  are  constantly  so 
busy,  did  not  now  exert  their  influence  on  us,  to  effect  I  know  not 
what  strange  purpose.  So  far  as  I  have  known  these  saintly  gentle- 
men, it  seems  to  be  in  every  case  their  laudable  endeavor  to  separate 
the  united,  and  to  unite  the  separated.  What  sort  of  web  their 
weaving  will  produce,  may  probably  to  unholy  eyes  be  forever  a 
riddle." 

"  You  are  cross  and  bitter,"  said  the  other  ;  "  that  is  as  it  should 
be.     Would  you  get  into  a  proper  passion,  it  were  still  better." 

"  That  too  might  come  about,"  said  Wilhelm  :  "  I  fear  much  some 
of  you  are  in  the  mind  to  load  my  patience,  natural  and  acquired, 
beyond  what  it  will  bear." 


898  MEISTBR'S  APPRENTICESHIP^ 

''  In  the  meantime,"  said  the  other,  "till  we  see  what  is  to  be  the 
issue  of  the  matter,  I  could  like  to  tell  you  somewhat  of  the  tower, 
which  you  appear  to  view  with  such  mistrust." 

"  It  stands  with  you,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  whether  you  will  risk  your 
eloquence  on  an  attention  so  distracted.  My  mind  is  so  engaged  at 
present,  tha  I  know  not  whether  I  can  take  a  proper  interest  in  these 
very  dignified  adventures." 

"  Your  pleasing  humor  shall  not  hinder  me,"  said  Jarno,  "  from 
explaining  this  affair  to  you.  You  reckon  me  a  clever  fellow  ;  I 
want  to  make  you  reckon  me  an  honest  one  ;  and  what  is  more,  on 
this  occasion  I  am  bidden  speak." — "  I  could  wish,"  said  Wilhelm, 
"that  you  did  it  of  yourself,  and  with  an  honest  purpose  to  inform 
me  ;  but  as  I  cannot  hear  without  suspicion,  wherefore  should  I  hear 
at  all?  " — "  If  I  have  nothing  better  to  do,"  said  Jarno,  "  than  tell 
you  stories,  you  too  have  time  to  listen  to  me  ;  and  to  this  you  may 
perhaps  feel  more  inclined,  when  I  assure  you,  that  all  you  saw  in 
the  tower  was  but  the  relics  of  a  youthful  undertaking,  in  regard  to 
which  the  greater  part  of  the  initiated  were  once  in  deep  earnest, 
though  all  of  them  now  view  it  with  a  smile." 

"So,  with  these  pompous  signs  and  words,  you  do  bxit  mock?" 
cried  Wilhelm.  "  With  a  solemn  air,  you  lead  us  to  a  place  inspir- 
ing reverence  by  its  aspect  ;  you  make  the  strangest  visions  pass  be- 
fore us  ;  you  give  us  rolls  full  of  glorious  mystic  apophthegms,  of 
which  in  truth  we  understand  but  little  ;  you  disclose  to  us  that  hith- 
erto we  have  been  pupils  ;  you  solenmly  pronounce  us  free  ;  and  we 
are  just  as  wise  as  we  were."^ — "  Have  you  not  the  parchment  by 
you?"  said  the  other.  "  It  contains  a  deal  of  sense  :  those  general 
apophthegms  were  not  picked  up  at  random  ;  though  they  seem  ob- 
scure and  empty  to  a  man  without  experiences  to  recollect  while  read- 
ing them.  But  give  me  the  indenture,  as  we  call  it,  if  it  is  at  hand." 
— "Quite  at  hand,"  cried  Wilhelm  ;  "such  an  amulet  well  merits 
being  worn  upon  one's  breast." — "  Well,"  said  Jarno,  smiling,  "  who 
knows  whether  the  contents  of  it  may  not  one  day  find  place  in  your 
head  and  heart  ?  " 

He  opened  the  roll,  and  glanced  over  the  first  half  of  it.  "  This," 
said  he,  "  regards  the  cultivation  of  our  gifts  for  art  and  science  ;  of 
which  let  others  speak  :  the  second  treats  of  life  ;  here  I  am  more  at 
home. " 

He  then  began  to  read  passages,  speaking  between  whiles,  and  con- 
necting them  with  his  remarks  and  narrative.  "  The  taste  of  youth 
for  secrecy,  for  ceremonies,  for  imposing  words,  is  extraordinarj- ; 
and  frequently  bespeaks  a  certain  depth  of  character.  In  those  years, 
we  wish  to  feel  our  whole  nature  seized  and  moved,  even  though  it  be 
but  vaguely  and  darkly.  The  youth  who  happens  to  have  lofty  aspi- 
rations and  forecastings,  thinks  that  secrets  yield  him  much,  that  he 
must  depend  much  on  secrets,  and  effect  much  by  means  of  them.  It 
was  with  such  views  that  the  abb6  favored  a  certain  society  of  young 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  V.  399 

men  ;  partly  according  to  his  principle  of  aiding  every  tendency  of 
nature,  partly  out  of  habit  and  inclination  ;  for  in  former  times  he  had 
himself  been  joined  to  an  association,  which  appears  to  have  accom- 
plished many  things  in  secret.  For  this  business  I  was  least  of  all 
adapted.  I  was  older  than  the  rest  ;  from  youth  I  had  thought  clearly  ; 
I  wished  in  all  things  nothing  more  than  clearness  ;  I  felt  no  interest 
in  men,  but  to  know  them  as  they  were.  With  the  same  taste  I  grad- 
ually infected  all  the  best  of  our  associates  ;  and  this  circumstance 
had  almost  given  a  false  direction  to  our  plan  of  culture.  For  we 
now  began  to  look  at  nothing  but  the  errors  and  narrowness  of  others, 
and  to  think  ourselves  a  set  of  highly-gifted  personages.  Here  the 
abb6  came  to  our  assistance  :  he  taught  us,  that  we  never  should  in- 
spect the  conduct  of  men,  unless  we  at  the  same  time  took  an  interest 
in  improving  it  ;  and  that  through  action  only  could  we  ever  be  in  a 
condition  to  inspect  and  watch  ourselves.  He  advised  us,  however, 
to  retain  the  primary  forms  of  the  society  :  hence  there  was  still  a 
sort  of  law  in  our  proceedings  ;  the  first  mystic  impressions  might  be 
traced  in  the  constitution  of  the  whole.  At  length,  as  by  a  practical 
similitude,  it  took  the  form  of  a  corporate  trade,  whose  business  was 
the  arts.  Hence  came  the  name  of  apprentices,  assistants,  and  mas- 
ters. We  wished  to  see  with  our  own  eyes,  and  to  form  for  ourselves 
a  special  record  of  our  own  expeiuence  in  the  world.  Hence  those 
numerous  confessions,  which  in  part  we  ourselves  wrote,  in  part  made 
others  write  ;  and  out  of  which  the  several  "  Apprenticeships  "  were 
afterwards  compiled.  The  formation  of  his  character  is  not  the  chief 
concern  with  every  man.  Many  mei-ely  wish  to  find  a  sort  of  receipt 
for  comfort,  directions  for  acquiring  riches,  or  whatever  good  they 
aim  at.  All  such,  when  they  would  not  be  instructed  in  their  proper 
duties,  we  were  wont  to  mystify,  to  treat  with  juggleries  and  every 
sort  of  hocus-pocus,  and  at  lengtli  to  shove  aside.  We  advanced  none 
to  the  rank  of  masters  but  such  as  clearly  felt  and  recognized  the 
purpose  they  were  born  for,  and  had  got  enough  of  practice  to  proceed 
along  their  way  with  a  certain  cheerfulness  and  ease." 

"In  my  case,  then,"  cried  Wilhelm,  "your  ceremony  has  been 
very  premature  ;  for  since  the  day  when  you  pronounced  me  free, 
what  I  can,  will,  or  shall  do,  has  been  more  unknown  to  me  than 
ever." — "  We  are  not  to  blame  for  this  perplexity  ;  perhaps  good  for- 
tune will  deliver  us.  In  the  meantime  listen  :  '  He  in  whom  there  is  ' 
much  to  be  developed  will  be  later  in  acquiring  true  perceptions  of  y 
himself  and  of  the  world.  There  are  few  who  at  once  have  thought 
and  the  capacity  of  action.  Thought  expands,  but  lames  ;  action 
animates,  but  narrows.'  " 

' '  I  beg  of  you,"  cried  Wilhelm,  ' '  not  to  read  me  any  more  of  that  sur- 
prising stuff.  These  phrases  have  sufficiently  confused  me  before." — 
"  I  will  stick  by  my  story,  then,"  said  Jarno,  half  rolling  up  the  parch- 
ment, into  which,  however,  he  kejjt  casting  frequent  glances.  "I 
myself  have  been  of  less  service  to  the  cause  of  our  society  and  of  my 


400  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTIGESHIP. 

fellow-men  than  any  other  member.  I  am  but  a  bad  sclioolmaster  ;  I 
cannot  bear  to  look  on  people  making  awkward  trials  ;  when  I  see  a 
person  wandering  from  his  path,  I  feel  constrained  to  call  upon  him, 
although  it  were  a  night-walker  going  straight  to  brealc  his  neck.  On 
this  point,  I  had  a  continual  struggle  with  the  abbe,  who  maintains 
that  error  can  never  be  cured  except  by  erring.  About  you,  too,  we 
often  argued.  He  had  taken  an  especial  liking  to  you  :  and  it  is  say- 
ing something  to  have  caught  so  much  of  his  attention.  For  me, 
you  must  admit,  that  every  time  we  met,  I  told  you  just  the  naked 
truth." — "  Certainly,  you  spared  me  very  little,"  said  the  other,  "  and 
I  think  you  still  continue  faithful  to  your  principles." — "  What  is  the 
use  of  sparing,"  answered  Jarno,  "  when  a  young  man  of  many  good 
endowments  is  taking  a  quite  false  direction?" — "  Pardon  me,"  said 
Wilhelm,  "you  have  rigorously  enough  denied  me  any  talent  for  the 
stage  ;  I  confess  to  you,  that  though  I  have  entirely  renounced  the 
art,  I  cannot  think  myself  entirely  incapable." — "  And  with  me,"  said 
Jarno,  "it  is  well  enough  decided,  that  a  person  who  can  only  play 
liimself  is  no  player.  Whoever  cannot  change  himself  in  temper  and 
in  form,  into  many  forms,  does  not  deserve  the  name.  Thus  you,  for 
example,  acted  "Hamlet  "  and  some  other  characters  extremely  well : 
because  in  these  your  form,  your  disposition  and  the  temper  of  the 
moment  suited.  For  an  amateur  theater,  for  any  one  who  saw  no 
other  way  before  him,  this  would  perhaps  have  answered  well  enough. 
But,"  continued  Jarno,  looking  on  the  roll,  ' '  '  we  should  guard  against 
a  talent  which  we  cannot  hope  to  practice  in  perfection.  Improve  it 
as  we  may,  we  shall  always  in  the  end,  when  the  merit  of  the  master 
has  become  apparent  to  us,  painfully  lament  the  loss  of  time  and 
strength  devoted  to  such  botching.'  " 

"  Do  not  read  !  "  cried  Wilhelm  ;  "  I  entreat  you  earnestly  ;  speak 
on,  tell  me,  inform  me  !  So  the  abb6  aided  me  in  Hamlet  ;  he 
provided  me  a  ghost?" — "Yes  ;  for  he  asserted  that  it  was  the  only 
way  of  curing  you,  if  you  were  curable." — "  And  on  this  account 
he  left  the  veil,  and  bade  me  fly?" — "Yes,  he  hoped  that  having 
fairly  acted  Hamlet,  your  desire  of  acting  would  be  satiated.  He 
maintained  that  you  would  never  go  upon  the  stage  again  ;  I  believed 
the  contrary,  and  I  was  right.  We  argued  on  the  subject,  that 
very  evening  when  the  play  was  over." — "You  saw  me,  then?" 
— "I  did  indeed." — "And  who  was  it  that  played  the  Ghost?" — 
— "  That  T  cannot  tell  you  ;  either  the  abb6  or  his  twin  brother  ;  but 
I  think  the  latter,  for  he  is  a  little  taller." — "  You  have  secrets  from 
each  other,  then?" — "  Friends  may  and  must  Jiave  secrets  from  each 
other  ;  but  they  are  not  secrets  to  each  other." 

"The  very  thought  of  that  perplexity  perplexes  me.  Let  me 
understand  the  man,  to  whom  I  owe  so  many  thanks  as  well  as  such 
reproaches." 

"  What  gives  him  such  a  value  in  our  estimation,"  answered  Jarno, 
"  what  in  some  degree  secures  him  the  dominion  over  all  of  us,  is  the 


BOOK  VIIL  CHAPTER  V.  401 

free  sharp  eye  that  nature  has  bestowed  on  him  for  all  the  powers 
which  dwell  in  man,  and  are  susceptible  of  cultivation,  each  accord- 
ing to  its  kind.  Most  men,  even  the  most  accomplished,  are  but 
limited  :  each  prizes  certain  properties  in  others  and  himself  ;  these 
alone  he  favors,  these  alone  will  he  have  cultivated.  Directly  the 
reverse  is  the  procedure  of  our  abbe  ;  for  evei*y  gift  he  has  a  feeling  ; 
every  gift  he  delights  to  recognize  and  forward.  But  I  must  look  into 
my  roll  again  !  '  It  is  all  men  that  make  up  mankind  ;  all  powers 
taken  together  that  make  up  the  world.  These  are  frequently  at 
variance  :  and  as  they  endeavor  to  destroy  each  other,  Nature  holds 
them  together,  and  again  produces  them.  From  the  first  animal  ten- 
dency to  handicraft  attempts,  up  to  the  highest  practicing  of  intellec- 
tual art  ;  from  the  inarticulate  Growings  of  the  happy  infant,  up  to 
the  polished  utterance  of  the  orator  and  singer  ;  from  the  first  bicker- 
ings of  boys  up  to  the  vast  equipments  by  which  countries  are  con- 
quered and  retained  ;  from  the  slightest  kindliness  and  the  most 
transitory  love,  up  to  the  fiercest  passion  and  the  most  earnest  cove- 
nant ;  from  the  merest  perception  of  sensible  presence  up  to  the  faint- 
est presentiments  and  hopes  of  the  remotest  spiritual  future  ;  all  this 
and  much  more  also  lies  in  man,  and  must  be  cultivated  ;  yet  not  in 
one,  but  in  many.  Every  gift  is  valuable,  and  ought  to  be  unfolded. 
When  one  encourages  the  beautiful  alone,  and  another  encourages 
the  useful  alone,  it  takes  them  both  to  form  a  man.  The  useful 
encourages  it.self ;  for  the  multitude  produce  it,  and  no  one  can  dis- 
pense with  it  :  the  beautiful  must  be  encouraged  ;  for  few  can  set  it 
forth,  and  many  may  need  it.'" 

"  Hold  !  hold  ! "  cried  Wilhelra  :  "I  have  read  it  all." — "  Yet  a  line 
or  two  !  "  said  Jarno  ;  "  Here  is  our  worthy  abbe  to  a  hairsbreadth  ; 
'  One  power  rules  another ;  none  can  cultivate  another  ;  in  each 
endowment,  and  not  elsewhere,  lies  the  force  which  must  complete  it ; 
this  many  people  do  not  understand,  who  yet  attempt  to  teach  and 
influence.'  " — "  I  too  do  not  under.stand  it,"  answered  Wilhelm. — 
"  You  will  often  hear  the  abbe  preach  on  this  text  ;  and,  therefore, 
'  Let  us  merely  keep  a  clear  and  steady  eye  on  what  is  in  ourselves  ; 
on  what  endowments  of  our  own  we  mean  to  cultivate  ;  let  us  be  just 
to  others  ;  for  we  ourselves  are  only  to  be  valued  in  so  far  as  we  can 
value.'" — "  For  Heaven's  sake,  no  more  of  these  wise  saws  !  I  feel 
them  to  be  but  a  sorry  balsam  for  a  wounded  heart.  Tell  me  rather 
with  your  cruel  settledness,  what  you  expect  of  me,  how  and  in  what 
manner  you  intend  to  sacrifice  me." — "For  every  such  suspicion,  I 
assure  you,  you  will  afterwards  beg  our  pardon.  It  is  your  affair  to 
try  and  choose  ;  it  is  ours  to  aid  you.  A  man  is  never  happy  till  his  "1 
vague  striving  has  itself  marked  out  its  proper  limitation.  It  is  uot_l 
to  me  that  you  must  look,  but  to  the  abbe  ;  it  is  not  of  yourself  that 
you  must  think,  but  of  what  surrounds  you.  Thus,  for  instance, 
learn  to  understand  Lothario's  superiority  ;  how  his  quick  and  com- 
prehensive vision  is  inseparably  united  with  activity  ;  how  he  con- 


403  MEI8TEB  '8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

stantly  advances  ;  liow  he  expands  liis  influence,  and  carries  every 
one  along  with  him.  Wherever  he  may  be,  he  bears  a  world  about 
with  him :  his  presence  animates  and  kindles.  Observe  our  good 
physician  on  the  other  hand  !  His  nature  seems  to  be  directly  the 
reverse.  If  the  former  only  works  upon  the  general  whole,  and  at  a 
distance,  the  latter  turns  his  piercing  eye  upon  the  things  that  are 
beside  him  ;  he  rather  furnishes  the  means  for  being  active,  than 
himself  displays  or  stimulates  activity.  His  conduct  is  exactly  like 
the  conduct  of  a  good  domestic  manager  ;  he  is  busied  silently,  while 
he  provides  for  each  in  his  peculiar  sphere  ;  his  knowledge  is  a  con- 
stant gathering  and  expending,  a  taking  in  and  giving  out  on  the 
small  scale.  Perhaps  Lothario  in  a  single  day  might  overturn  what 
the  other  had  for  years  been  employed  in  building  up  :  but  perhaps 
Lothario  also  might  impart  to  others,  in  a  moment,  strength  sufficient 
to  restore  a  hundredfold  what  he  had  overturned." — "  It  is  but  a  sad 
employment,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "to  contemplate  the  sublime 
advantages  of  others,  at  a  moment  when  we  are  at  variance  with  our- 
selves. Such  contemplations  suit  the  man  at  ease  ;  not  him  whom 
passion  and  uncertainty  are  agitating." — "  Peacefully  and  reasonably 
to  contemplate  is  at  no  time  hurtful,"  answered  Jarno  ;  "and  while 
we  use  ourselves  to  think  of  the  advantages  of  others,  our  own  mind 
comes  insensibly  to  imitate  them  ;  and  every  false  activity,  to  which 
our  fancy  was  alluring  us,  is  then  willingly  abandoned.  Free  your 
mind,  if  you  can,  from  all  suspicion  and  anxiety.  Here  comes  the 
abbe  ;  be  courteous  towards  him,  till  you  have  learned  still  farther 
what  you  owe  him.  The  rogue  !  There  he  goes  between  Natalia 
and  Theresa  ;  I  could  bet  he  is  contriving  something.  As  in  general 
he  likes  to  act  the  part  of  destiny  a  little  ;  so  he  does  not  fail  to  show 
a  taste  for  making  matches,  when  he  finds  an  opportunity." 

Wilhelm,  whose  angry  and  fretful  humor  all  the  placid  prudent 
words  of  Jarno  had  not  bettered,  thought  his  friend  exceedingly 
indelicate  for  mentioning  marriage  at  a  moment  like  the  present  ;  he 
answered  with  a  smile  indeed,  but  a  rather  bitter  one  :  "  I  thought 
the  taste  for  making  matches  had  been  left  to  those  that  had  a  taste 
for  one  another. " 


CHAPTER  VI. 


The  company  had  met  again  ;  the  conversation  of  our  friends  was 
necessarily  interrupted.  Ere  long  a  courier  was  announced,  as  wish- 
ing to  deliver  with  his  own  hand  a  letter  to  Lothario.  The  man  was 
introduced  :  he  had  a  vigorous  sufficient  look  ;  his  livery  was  rich  and 
handsome.  Wilhelm  thoug-ht  he  knew  him  :  nor  was  he  mistaken  ; 
for  it  was  the  man  whom  he  had  sent  to  seek  Philina  and  the  fancied 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  Vl  403 

Mariaua,  and  who  never  came  back.  Our  friend  %vas  about  to  address 
him,  when  Lothario,  who  had  read  the  letter,  asked  the  courier  witli  a 
serious,  almost  angry  tone  :  "  What  is  your  master's  name  ?  " 

"  Of  all  questions,"  said  the  other  with  a  prudent  air,  "  this  is  the 
one  which  I  am  least  prejjared  to  answer.  I  hope  the  letter  will 
communicate  the  necessary  information  :  verbally  1  have  been  charged 
with  nothing." 

"Be  it  as  it  will,"  replied  Lothario  with  a  smile  ;  "since  your 
master  puts  such  trust  in  me  as  to  indite  a  letter  so  exceedingly 
facetious,  he  shall  be  welcome  to  us." — "  He  will  not  keep  you  long 
waiting  for  him,"  said  the  courier  with  a  bow,  and  withdrew. 

"  Do  but  hear  the  distracted  stupid  message,"  said  Lothario. 
"  '  As  of  all  guests,  good  humor  is  believed  to  be  the  most  agreeable 
wherever  he  appears,  and  as  I  always  keep  that  gentleman  beside 
me  by  way  of  traveling  companion,  I  feel  persuaded  that  the  visit  I 
intend  to  pay  your  noble  lordship  will  not  be  taken  ill  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, I  hope  the  whole  of  your  illustrious  family  will  witness  my 
arrival  with  complete  satisfaction  ;  and  in  due  time  also  my  departure  ; 
being  always,  et  cetera,  Count  of  Snailfoot.'  " 

"  'Tis  a  new  family,"  said  the  abbe. 

"  A  vicariat  count,  perhaps,"  said  Jarno. 

"The  secret  is  easy  to  unriddle,"  said  Natalia,  "  I  wager  it  is  none 
but  brother  Friedrich,  who  has  threatened  us  with  a  visit  ever  since 
my  uncle's  death." 

"Right  !  fair  and  skillful  sister  !  "  cried  a  voice  from  the  nearest 
thicket  ;  and  imiuediately  a  i)leasant,  cheerful  youth  stepped  forward. 
Wilhelm  could  scarcely  restrain  a  cry  of  wonder.  "  How  ?  "  exclaimed 
he.  "  Does  our  fair-haired  knave,  too,  meet  me  here?"  Friedrich 
looked  attentively,  and  recognizing  Wilhelm,  cried  :  "In  truth,  it 
woijld  not  have  astonished  me  so  much  to  have  beheld  the  famous 
pyramids,  which  still  stand  fast  in  Egypt,  or  the  grave  of  King  Mau- 
solus,  which,  as  I  am  told,  does  not  exist,  hei-e  placed  before  me  in 
my  uncle's  garden,  as  to  find  you  in  it,  my  old  friend,  and  frequent 
benefactor.     Accept  my  best  and  heartiest  service  !  " 

After  he  had  kissed  and  complimented  the  whole  circle,  he  again 
sprang  towards  Wilhelm,  crying:  "Use  him  well,  this  hero,  this 
leader  of  armies,  and  dramatical  philosopher  !  When  we  became 
acquainted  first,  I  dressed  his  hair  indifferently,  I  may  say  execrably  ; 
yet  he  afterwards  saved  me  from  a  pretty  load  of  blows.  He  is 
magnanimous  as  Scipio,  munificent  as  Alexander  :  at  times  he  is  in 
love,  yet  he  never  hates  his  rivals.  Far  from  heaping  coals  of  fire  on 
the  heads  of  his  enemies — a  piece  of  service,  I  am  told,  which  we  can 
do  for  any  one — he  rather,  when  his  friends  bave  carried  off  his  love, 
dispatches  good  and  trusty  servants  after  them,  that  they  nught  not 
strike  their  feet  against  a  stone." 

In  the  same  style  he  ran  along,  with  a  volubility  which  baffled  all 
attempts  to  restrain  it ;  and  as  no  one  could  reply  to  him  in  that  vein, 


404  MElBTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

he  had  the  conversation  mostly  to  himself.  "  Do  not  wonder,"  cried 
he,  ' '  that  I  am  so  profoundly  versed  in  sacred  and  profane  writers  : 
you  shall  hear  by  and  by  how  I  attained  my  learning."  They  wished 
to  know  how  matters  stood  with  him,  where  he  had  been  ;  but  crowds 
of  proverbs  and  old  stories  choked  his  explanation. 

Natalia  whispered  to  Theresa  :  "  His  gayety  afflicts  me  ;  I  am  sure 
at  heart  he  is  not  merry." 

As,  except  a  few  jokes  which  Jarno  answered,  Friedrich's  merri- 
ment was  met  by  no  response  from  those  about  him,  he  was  obliged 
at  last  to  say  :  "Well,  there  is  nothing  left  for  me,  but  among  so 
many  grave  faces  to  be  grave  myself.  And  as  in  such  a  solemn 
scene,  the  burden  of  my  sins  falls  heavy  on  my  soul,  I  must  honestly 
resolve  upon  a  general  confession  ;  for  which,  however,  you,  my 
worthy  gentlemen  and  ladies,  shall  not  be  a  jot  the  wiser.  This  hon- 
orable friend  already  knows  a  little  of  my  walk  and  conversation  ;  he 
alone  shall  know  the  rest  ;  and  this  the  rather  as  he  alone  has  any 
cause  to  ask  about  it.  Are  not  you,"  continued  he  to  Wilhelm,  "curi- 
ous about  the  how  and  where,  the  when  and  wherefore  't  And  how  it 
stands  with  the  conjugation  of  the  Greek  verb  qjiXeoo,  qiiAiS,  and  the 
derivatives  of  that  very  amiable  part  of  speech  ?  " 

He  then  took  Wilhelm  by  the  arm.  and  led  him  off,  pressing  him 
and  .skipping  rouud  him  with  the  liveliest  air  of  kindness. 

Scarcely  had  they  entered  Wilhelm's  room,  when  Friedrich  noticed 
in  the  window  a  powder-knife,  with  the  inscription,  Tliiiik  of  me. 
"You  keep  your  valuables  well  laid  up  !"  said  he.  "This  is  the 
powder-knife  Philina  gave  you,  when  I  pulled  your  locks  for  you.  I 
hope,  in  looking  at  it,  you  have  diligently  thought  of  that  fair 
damsel :  I  assure  you,  she  has  not  forgotten  you  ;  if  I  had  not  long 
ago  obliterated  every  trace  of  jealousy  from  my  heart,  I  could  not 
look  on  you  without  envy." 

"  Talk  no  more  of  that  creature,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "  I  confess 
it  was  a  while  before  I  could  get  rid  of  the  impression  which  her  looks 
and  manner  made  on  me  ;  but  that  was  all." 

"  Fy  !  f  y  ! "  cried  Friedrich  ;  "would  any  one  deny  his  deary  ?  You 
loved  her  as  completely  as  a  man  could  wish.  No  day  passed  with- 
out your  giving  her  some  present  ;  and  when  a  German  gives,  you 
may  be  sure  he  loves.  No  alternative  remained  for  me  but  whisking 
her  away  from  you  ;  and  in  this  the  little  red  officer  at  last  succeeded." 

"How  !  You  were  the  officer  whom  we  discovered  with  her,  whom 
she  traveled  off  with?" 

"Yes,"  said  Friedrich,  "  whom  you  took  for  Mariana  We  had  sport 
enough  at  the  mistake." 

"  What  cruelty,"  cried  Wilhelm,  "to  leave  me  in  such  suspense  !  " 

"  And  besides  to  take  the  courier,  whom  you  sent  to  catch  us,  into 
pay  ?  "  said  Friedrich.  "  He  is  a  very  active  fellow  ;  we  have  kept 
him  by  us  ever  since.  And  the  girl  herself  I  love  as  desperately  as 
ever.     She  has  managed  me  in  some  peculiar  style  :  I  am  almost  in  a 


BOOK  VIIL  CHAP  TEE  VL  405 

inythologic  case  ;  every  day  I  tremble  at  the  thought  of  being  meta- 
morphosed." 

"  But  tell  me,  pray,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  where  have  you  acquired  this 
stock  of  erudition  ?  It  surprises  me  to  hear  the  strange  way  you  liave 
assumed  of  speaking  always  with  a  reference  to  ancient  histories  and 
fables." 

"It  was  by  a  pleasant  plan,"  said  Friedrich,  "  that  I  got  my  learn- 
ing. Philina  lives  with  me  at  present  :  we  have  got  a  lease  of  an  old 
knightly  castle  from  the  farmer  in  whose  ground  it  is  :  and  there  we 
live,  with  the  hobgoblins  of  the  place,  as  merrily  as  possible.  In  one 
of  the  rooms,  we  found  a  .small  and  choice  library,  consisting  of  a 
folio  'Bible,'  'Gottfried's  Chronicle,'  two  volumes  of  the  '  Thea- 
trum  Europaeum,'  an  '  Acerra  Philoiogica,'  '  Gryphius's  Writings,'  and 
some  other  less  important  works.  As  we  now  and  then,  when  tired 
of  romping,  felt  the  time  hang  heavy  on  our  hands,  we  proposed  to 
read  some  books  :  and  before  we  were  aware,  the  time  hung  heavier 
than  ever.  At  last,  PhUina  hit  upon  the  royal  plan  of  laying  all  the 
tomes,  opened  at  once,  upon  a  large  table  :  we  sat  down  opposite  to  one 
another  ;  we  read  to  one  another  ;  always  in  detached  passages,  first 
from  this  book,  then  from  that.  Here  was  a  very  projier  pleasure  ! 
We  felt  now  as  if  we  were  in  good  society,  where  it  is  reckoned  unbe- 
coming to  dwell  on  any  subject,  or  search  it  to  the  bottom  ;  we  thought 
ourselves  in  witty  gay  society,  where  none  will  let  his  neighbor  speak. 
We  regularly  treat  ourselves  with  this  diversion  every  day  ;  and  the 
erudition  we  obtain  from  it  is  quite  surprising.  Already  there  is  noth- 
ing new  for  us  under  the  sun  ;  on  everything  we  see  or  hear  our 
learning  offers  us  a  hint.  This  method  of  instruction  we  diversify  in 
many  ways.  Frequently  we  read  by  an  old  spoiled  sand-glass,  which 
runs  in  a  minute  or  two.  The  moment  it  is  down,  the  silent  party 
turns  it  round  like  lightning,  and  commences  reading  from  his  book  ; 
and  no  sooner  is  it  down  again,  than  the  other  cuts  him  short,  and 
starts  the  former  topic.  Thus  \fe  study  in  a  truly  academic  manner  ; 
only  our  hours  are  shorter,  and  our  studies  are  extremely  varied." 

"  Tliis  rioting  is  quite  conceivable,"  said  Wilhelm,  "when  a  pair 
like  you  two  are  together ;  but  how  a  pair  so  full  of  frolic  stay  to- 
gether, does  not  seem  so  easily  conceivable." 

"  It  is  our  good  fortune,"  answered  Friedrich,  "  and  our  bad.  Phi- 
lina dare  not  let  herself  be  seen,  she  cannot  bear  to  see  herself,  she  is 
in  the  family  way.  Nothing  ever  was  so  ludicrous  and  shapeless  in 
the  world.  A  little  while  before  I  came  away,  she  chanced  to  cast  an 
eye  upon  the  looking-glass  in  passing.  '  Faugh  ! '  cried  she,  and 
turned  away  her  face  :  '  the  living  picture  of  the  Frau  MeUna  !  Shock- 
ing figure  !  One  looks  entirely  deplorable  I '  " 

"  I  confess,"  said  Wilhelm  with  a  smile,  "  it  must  be  rather  farci- 
cal to  see  a  father  and  mother  such  as  you  and  she  together." 

" 'Tis  a  foolish  business,"  answered  Friedrich,  "that  I  must,  at 
last,  be  raised  to  the  paternal  dignity.     But  she  asserts,  and  the  time 


406  MmSTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

agrees.  At  first  that  cursed  visit  which  she  paid  you  after  Hamlet 
gave  me  qualms." 

"What  visit?" 

"1  suppose  you  have  not  quite  slept  off  the  memory  of  it  yet? 
The  pretty  flesh  and-blood  spirit  of  that  night,  if  you  do  not  know  it, 
was  Philina.  The  story  was  in  truth  a  hard  dower  for  me  ;  but  if 
we  cannot  be  content  with  such  things,  we  should  not  be  in  love. 
Fatherhood  at  any  rate  depends  entirely  upon  conviction  :  I  am  con- 
vinced and  so  I  am  a  father.  There,  you  see,  I  can  employ  my  logic 
in  the  proper  season  too.  And  if  the  brat  do  not  iaugh  itself  to  death 
so  soon  as  it  is  born,  it  may  prove,  if  not  a  useful,  at  least  a  pleasant 
citizen  of  this  world." 

Whilst  our  friends  were  talking  thus  of  mirthful  subjects,  the  rest 
of  the  party  had  begun  a  serious  conversation.  Scarcely  were  Fried- 
rich  and  Wilhelm  gone,  when  the  abbe  led  his  friends,  as  if  by 
chance,  into  a  garden-house  ;  and  having  got  them  seated,  thus  ad- 
dressed them  : 

"  We  have  in  general  terms  asserted  that  Friiulein  Theresa  was  not 
the  daughter  of  her  reputed  mother  ;  it  is  fit  that  we  should  now 
explain  ourselves  on  this  matter,  in  detail.  I  shall  relate  the  story 
to  you,  which  I  undertake  to  prove  and  to  elucidate  in  every  point. 

"  Frau  von  ***  spent  the  first  years  of  her  wedlock  in  the  utmost 
concord  with  her  husband  ;  only  they  had  this  misfortune,  that  the 
children  she  brought  him  came  into  the  world  dead  ;  and  on  occasion 
of  the  third,  the  mother  was  declared  by  the  physicians  to  be  on  the 
verge  of  death,  and  to  be  sure  of  death  if  she  should  ever  have 
another.  The  parties  were  obliged  to  take  their  resolution:  they 
would  not  break  the  marriage  ;  it  was  too  suitable  to  both,  in  a  civil 
point  of  view.  Frau  von  ***  sought  in  the  culture  of  her  mind,  in  a 
certain  habit  of  display,  in  the  joys  of  vanity,  a  compensation  for  the 
happiness  of  motherhood  which  was  refused  her.  She  cheerfully 
indulged  her  husband,  when  she  noticed  in  him  an  attachment  to  a 
young  lady,  who  had  sole  charge  of  their  domestic  economy  ;  a  per- 
son of  beautiful  exterior,  and  very  solid  character.  Frau  von  *** 
herself,  ere  long,  assisted  in  procuring  an  arrangement  ;  by  which 
the  lady  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  Theresa's  father  ;  continuing  to 
discharge  her  household  duties,  and  testify  to  the  mistress  of  the 
family,  if  possible,  a  more  submissive  zeal  to  serve  her  than  before. 

"  After  a  while,  she  declared  herself  with  child  :  and  both  the 
father  and  his  wife,  on  this  occasion,  though  from  very  different 
causes,  fell  upon  the  same  idea.  Herr  von  ***  wished  to  have  the 
offspring  of  his  mistress  educated  in  the  house  as  his  lawful  child  ; 
and  Frau  von  ***,  angry  that  the  indiscretion  of  her  doctor  had 
allowed  some  whisper  of  her  condition  to  go  abroad,  proposed  by  a 
supposititious  child  to  counteract  this  ;  and  likewise  to  retain,  by 
such  compliance,  the  superiority  in  her  household,  which  otherwise 
she  was  like  to  lose.     However,  she  was  more  backward  than  her 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  VI  40r 

husband  ;  slie  observed  bis  purpose  ;  and  contrived,  without  any 
formal  question,  to  facilitate  bis  explanation.  She  made  ber  own 
terms  ;  obtaining  almost  everything  that  she  required  ;  and  hence 
the  will,  in  which  so  little  care  was  taken  of  the  child.  Tbe  old 
doctor  was  dead  :  they  applied  to  a  young,  active  and  discreet  suc- 
cessor ;  be  was  well  rewarded  ;  be  looked  forward  to  the  credit  of 
exposing  aud  remedying  the  unskillf  ulness  and  premature  decision  of 
his  deceased  colleague.  The  true  mother,  not  unwillingly,  con- 
sented ;  they  managed  the  deception  very  well ;  Theresa  came  into 
the  world,  and  was  surrendered  to  a  step-mother,  while  her  mother 
fell  a  victim  to  the  plot ;  having  died  by  venturing  out  too  early,  and 
left  the  father  inconsolable. 

"  Frau  von  ***  bad  thus  attained  her  object ;  in  tbe  eyes  of  the 
world  she  had  a  lovely  child,  which  she  paraded  with  excessive 
vanity  ;  aud  she  had  also  been  delivered  from  a  rival,  whose  fortune 
she  envied,  and  whose  influence,  at  least  in  prospect,  she  beheld 
with  apprehension.  Tbe  infant  she  loaded  with  her  tenderness  ;  and 
by  affecting,  in  trustful  hours,  a  lively  feeling  for  ber  husband's 
loss,  she  gained  mastery  of  bis  heart  ;  so  tbat  in  a  manner  be  sur- 
rendered all  to  her  ;  laid  bis  own  happiness  and  that  of  bis  child  in 
her  hands  ;  nor  was  it  till  a  short  while  prior  to  his  death,  and  in 
some  degree  by  tbe  exertions  of  his  grown-up  daughter,  tbat  he 
again  assumed  the  rule  in  bis  own  house.  This,  fair  Theresa,  was 
in  all  probability  the  secret,  wbich  your  father,  in  his  last  sickness,  so 
struggled  to  communicate  ;  this  is  what  I  wish  to  lay  circum- 
stantially before  you,  at  a  moment  when  our  young  friend,  who  by  a 
strange  concurrence  has  become  your  bridegroom,  happens  to  be 
absent.  Here  are  the  papers,  which  will  prove  in  the  most  rigorous 
mannner  everything  that  I  have  stated.  You  will  also  see  from  them 
how  long  I  have  been  following  the  trace  of  tins  discovery,  though 
till  now  I  could  never  attain  certainty  respecting  it.  I  did  not  risk 
imparting  to  my  friend  tbe  possibility  of  such  a  happiness  ;  it  would 
have  wounded  him  too  deeply,  bad  this  hope  a  second  time  deceived 
him.  You  will  understand  poor  Lydia's  suspicions  :  I  readily  con- 
fess, I  nowise  favored  tbe  attachment  of  our  friend  to  her,  whenever 
I  began  to  look  for  a  connection  with  Tberesa." 

To  this  recital  no  one  replied.  Tbe  ladies,  some  days  afterwards, 
returned  the  papers,  not  making  any  farther  mention  of  them. 

Tbere  were  other  matters  in  abundance  to  engage  the  party  when 
they  were  together  ;  and  the  scenery  around  was  so  delightful,  tbat 
our  friends,  singly  or  in  company,  on  horseback,  in  carriages,  or  on 
foot,  delighted  to  explore  it.  On  one  of  tbese  excursions,  Jamo  took 
an  opportunity  of  opening  tbe  affair  to  Wilhelin  :  be  delivered  him 
tbe  papers  ;  not,  however,  seeming  to  require  from  him  any  resolu- 
tion in  regard  to  them. 

"  In  the  singular  position  I  am  placed  in,"  said  our  friend,  "  I  need 
only  repeat  to  you  what  I  said  at  first,  in  presence  of  Natalia,  and 


408  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

with  tlie  clear  intention  to  fulfill  it.  Lothario  and  his  friends  may 
require  of  me  every  sort  of  self-denial  :  I  here  abandon  in  their  favor 
all  pretensions  to  Theresa  ;  do  you  procure  me,  in  return,  a  formal 
discharge.  There  requires  no  great  reflection  to  decide.  For  some 
days,  I  have  noticed  that  Theresa  has  to  make  an  effort  in  retaining 
any  show  of  the  vivacity  with  which  she  welcomed  me  at  first.  Her 
affection  is  gone  from  me,  or  rather  I  have  never  had  it." 

"  Such  affairs  are  more  conveniently  explained,"  said  Jarno,  "by 
a  gradual  process,  in  silence  and  expectation,  than  by  many  words, 
which  always  cause  a  sort  of  fermentation  and  embarrassment." 

"  I  rather  think,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  that  precisely  this  affair  admits 
of  the  most  clear  and  calm  decision  on  the  spot.  I  have  often  been 
reproached  with  hesitation  and  uncertainty  ;  why  will  you  now,  when 
I  do  not  hesitate,  commit  against  myself  the  fault  you  have  often 
blamed  in  me?  Do  our  neighbors  take  such  trouble  with  our  train- 
ing, only  to  let  us  feel  that  they  themselves  are  untrained  ?  Yes, 
grant  me  soon  the  cheerful  thought  that  I  am  out  of  a  mistaken 
project,  into  which  I  entered  with  the  purest  feelings  in  the  world." 

Notwithstanding  this  request,  some  days  elapsed  without  his  hear- 
ing any  more  of  the  affair,  or  observing  any  farther  alteration  in  his 
friends.  The  conversation,  on  the  contrary,  was  general  and  of  in- 
different matters. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 


Jarno  and  Wilhelm  were  sitting  one  day  by  Natalia.  "You  are 
thoughtful,  Jarno,"  said  the  lady  ;  "  I  have  seen  it  in  your  looks  for 
some  tinie." 

"I  am  so,"  answered  Jarno;  "a  weighty  business  is  before  me, 
which  we  have  for  years  been  meditating,  and  must  now  begin  to 
execute.  You  already  know  the  outline  of  it  ;  I  may  speak  of  it  be- 
fore our  friend  ;  for  it  will  depend  on  himself,  whether  he  too  shall 
not  share  in  it.  You  are  going  to  get  rid  of  me,  before  long  ;  I  mean 
to  take  a  voyage  to  America." 

"  To  America?"  said  Wilhelm  smiling  ;  "  such  an  adventure  I  did 
not  anticipate  from  you  ;  still  less  that  you  would  have  selected  me 
for  a  companion." 

"When  you  rightly  understand  our  plan,"  said  Jarno,  "you  will 
give  it  a  more  honorable  name  ;  and  perhaps  yourself  be  tempted  to 
embark  in  it.  Listen  to  me.  It  requires  but  a  slight  acquaintance 
with  the  business  of  the  world  to  see  that  mighty  changes  are  at 
hand,  that  property  is  almost  nowhere  quite  secure." 

"Of  the  business  of  the  world  I  have  no  clear  notion,"  interrupted 
Wilhelm  ;  "  and  it  is  but  of  late  that  I  ever  thought  about  my  prop- 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  VIL  409 

erty.  Perhaps  I  had  doue  well  to  drive  it  out  of  my  head  still  longer  ; 
the  care  of  securing  it  appears  to  give  us  hypochondria." 

"  Hear  me  out,"  said  Jaruo.  "  Care  beseems  ripe  age,  that  youth 
may  live  for  a  time  free  from  care  ;  in  tlie  conduct  of  poor  mortals, 
equilibrium  cannot  be  restored  except  by  contraries.  As  matters  go, 
it  is  anything  but  prudent  to  have  property  in  only  one  place,  to  com- 
mit your  money  to  a  single  spot  ;  and  it  is  difficult  again  to  guide  it 
well  in  many.  We  have  therefore  thought  of  something  else.  From 
our  old  tower  there  is  a  society  to  issue,  which  must  spread  itself 
through  every  quarter  of  the  world,  and  to  whicli  members  from 
every  quarter  of  the  world  shall  be  admissible.  We  shall  insure  a 
competent  subsistence  to  each  other,  in  the  single  case  of  a  revolu- 
tion happening,  which  might  drive  any  part  of  us  entirely  from  their 
possessions.  I  am  now  proceeding  to  America,  to  profit  by  the  good 
connections  which  our  friend  established  while  he  stayed  there. 
The  abbe  means  to  go  to  Russia  ;  if  you  like  to  join  us,  you  shall 
have  the  choice  of  continuing  in  Germany  to  help  Lothario,  or  of  ac- 
companying me.  I  conjecture  you  will  choose  the  latter  ;  to  take  a 
distant  journey  is  extremely  serviceable  to  a  young  man." 

Wilhelm  thought  a  moment,  and  replied  :  "  The  offer  well  deserves 
consideration  ;  for  ere  long  the  word  with  me  must  be.  The  farther 
oflE  the  better.  You  will  let  me  know  your  plan,  I  hope,  more  per- 
fectly. It  is  perhaps  my  ignorance  of  life  that  makes  me  think  so  ; 
but  such  a  combination  seems  to  me  to  be  attended  with  insuperable 
difficulties." 

"The  most  of  which,  till  now,  have  been  avoided,"  answered 
Jarno,  "by  the  circumstance,  that  we  have  been  but  few  in  number, 
honorable,  discreet,  determined  people,  animated  by  a  certain  general 
feeling,  out  of  which  alone  the  feeling  proper  for  societies  can  spring." 

"  Aud  if  you  speak  me  fair,"  said  Friedrich,  who  hitherto  had  only 
listened,  "  1  too  will  go  along  with  you." 

Jarno  shook  his  head. 

"  Well,  what  objections  can  you  make?"  cried  Friedrich.  "  In  a 
new  colony,  young  colonists  will  be  required  ;  these  I  bring  with  me  ; 
merry  colonists  will  also  be  required  ;  of  these  I  make  you  certain. 
Besides,  I  recollect  a  certain  damsel,  who  is  out  of  place  on  this  side 
of  the  water,  the  fair,  soft-hearted  Lydia.  What  is  the  poor  thing 
to  do  witlx  her  sorrow  and  mourning,  unless  she  get  an  opportunity 
to  throw  it  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  unless  some  brave  fellow  take 
her  by  the  hand?  You,  my  benefactor,"  .said  he,  turning  towards 
Wilhelm,  "  you  have  a  taste  for  comforting  forsaken  persons  ;  what 
withholds  you  now?  Each  of  us  might  take  his  girl  under  his  arm, 
and  trudge  with  Jarno." 

This  proposal  struck  Wilhelm  offensively.  He  answered  with 
affected  calmness  :  "  I  know  not  whether  she  is  unengaged  ;  and  as 
in  general  I  seem  to  be  unfortunate  in  courtship,  I  shall  hardly  think 
of  making  the  attempt." 


410  MmSTEJR' 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"Brotlier  Friedricli,"  said  Natalia,  "though  thy  own  conduct  is 
so  full  of  levity,  it  does  not  follow  that  such  sentiments  will  answer 
others.  Our  friend  deserves  a  heart  that  shall  belong  to  him  alone, 
that  shall  not  at  his  side  be  moved  by  foreign  recollections.  It  was 
only  with  a  character  as  pure  and  reasonable  as  Theresa's  that  such  a 
venture  could  be  risked." 

"  Risk  !  "  cried  Friedrich.  "  In  love  it  is  all  risk.  In  the  grove  or 
at  the  altar,  with  a  clasp  of  the  arms  or  a  golden  ring,  by  the  chirp- 
ing of  the  cricket  or  the  sound  of  trumpets  and  kettledrums,  it  is  all 
but  a  risk  ;  chance  does  it  all." 

"  I  have  often  noticed,"  said  Natalia,  "  that  our  principles  are  just 
a  supplement  to  our  peculiar  manner  of  existence.  We  delight  to 
clothe  our  errors  in  the  garb  of  universal  laws  ;  to  attribute  them 
to  irresistibly -appointed  causes.  Do  but  think,  by  what  a  path  thy 
dear  will  lead  thee,  now  that  she  has  drawn  thee  towards  her,  and 
holds  thee  fast  there." 

"She  herself  is  on  a  very  pretty  path,"  said  Friedrich,  "on  the 
path  to  saintship.  A  by-path,  it  is  true,  and  somewhat  roundabout ; 
but  the  pleasanter  and  surer  for  that.  Maria  of  Magdala  traveled  it, 
and  who  can  say  how  many  more  ?  But  on  the  whole,  sister,  when 
tlie  point  in  hand  is  love,  thou  shouldst  not  mingle  in  it.  In  my 
opinion,  thou  wilt  never  marry,  till  a  bride  is  lacking  somewhere  ;  in 
that  case,  thou  wilt  give  thyself,  with  thy  habitual  charity,  to  be  the 
supplement  of  some  peculiar  manner  of  existence  ;  not  otherwise.  So 
let  us  strike  a  bargain  with  this  soul-broker,  and  agree  about  our 
traveling  company." 

"  You  come  too  late  with  your  proposals,"  answered  Jarno  ;  "  Lydia 
is  disposed  of."  ■'^ 

"  And  how  ?  "  cried  Friedrich. 

"  I  myself  have  offered  her  my  hand,"  said  Jarno. 

"  Old  gentleman,"  said  Friedrich,  "  you  have  done  a  feat  to  which, 
if  we  regard  it  as  a  substantive,  various  adjectives  might  be  appended  ; 
various  predicates,  if  we  regard  it  as  a  subject." 

"  I  must  honestly  confess,"  replied  Natalia,"  it  appears  a  dan- 
gerous experiment  to  make  a  helpmate  of  a  woman,  at  the  very 
moment  when  her  love  for  another  man  is  like  to  drive  her  to 
despair." 

"I  have  ventured,"  answered  Jarno;  "under  a  certain  stipula- 
tion, she  is  to  be  mine.  And  believe  me,  there  is  nothing  in  the 
world  more  precious  than  a  heart  susceptible  of  love  and  passion. 
Whether  it  has  loved,  whether  it  still  loves,  are  points  which  I 
regard  not.  The  love  of  which  another  is  the  object,  charms  me 
almost  more  tlian  that  which  is  directed  to  myself.  I  see  the  strength, 
the  force  of  a  tender  soul,  and  my  self-love  does  not  trouble  the 
delightful  vision." 

"  Have  you  talked  with  Lydia,  then,  of  late?"  inquired  Natalia. 

Jarno  smiled  and  nodded  :  Natalia  shook  her  head,  and  said  as  he 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER   VII.  411 

rose  :  "I  really  know  not  what  to  make  of  you  ;  but  me  you  shall 
not  mystify,  I  promise  you." 

She  was  about  retiring,  when  the  abb^  entered  with  a  letter  in  his 
hand.  "Stay,  if  you  please,"  said  he  to  her:  "I  have  a  proposal 
here,  respecting  which  your  counsel  will  be  welcome.  The  marchese, 
your  late  uncle's  friend,  whom  for  some  time  we  have  been  expect- 
ing, will  be  here  in  a  day  or  two.  He  writes  to  me,  that  German  is 
not  so  familiar  to  him  as  he  had  supposed  :  that  he  needs  a  person 
who  possesses  this  and  other  languages  to  travel  with  him  ;  that  as 
he  wishes  to  connect  himself  with  scientific  rather  than  political 
society,  he  cannot  do  without  some  such  interpreter.  I  can  think  of  no 
one  better  suited  for  the  post  than  our  young  friend  here.  He  knows 
the  language  ;  is  acquainted  with  many  things  beside  ;  and  for  him- 
self, it  cannot  but  be  advantageous  to  travel  over  Germany  in  such 
society  and  such  circumstances.  Till  we  have  seen  our  native  coun- 
try, we  have  no  scale  to  judge  of  other  countries  by.  What  say  you, 
my  friend  !     What  say  you,  Natalia  ?  " 

Nobody  objected  to  the  scheme  :  Jarno  seemed  to  think  his  trans- 
atlantic project  would  not  be  a  hindrance,  as  he  did  not  mean  to  sail 
directly.  Natalia  did  not  speak  ;  and  Friedrich  uttered  various  saws 
about  the  uses  of  travel. 

This  new  project  so  provoked  our  friend,  that  he  could  hardly  con- 
ceal his  irritation.  He  saw,  in  this  proposal,  a  concerted  plan  for 
getting  rid  of  him  as  soon  as  possible  ;  and  what  was  worse,  they 
went  so  openly  to  work,  and  seemed  so  utterly  regardless  of  his  feel- 
ings. The  suspicions  Lydia  had  excited  in  him,  all  that  he  himself 
had  witnessed,  rose  again  upon  his  mind  ;  the  simple  manner  in  which 
everything  had  been  explained  by  Jarno,  now  appeared  to  him  another 
piece  of  artifice. 

He  constrained  himself,  and  answered:  "At  all  events,  the  offer 
will  require  mature  deliberation." 

"  A  quick  decision  may  perhaps  be  necessary,"  said  the  abb6. 

"  For  that  I  am  not  prepared,"  answered  .Wilhelm.  "  We  can  wait 
till  the  marchese  comes,  and  then  observe  if  we  agree  together.  One 
condition  must,  howevei',  be  conceded  first  of  all :  that  I  take  Felix 
with  me." 

"  This  is  a  condition,"  said  the  abb6,  "  which  will  scarcely  be  con- 
ceded." 

"  And  I  do  not  see,"  cried  Wilhelm,  "  why  I  should  let  any  man 
prescribe  conditions  to  me  ;  or  why,  if  I  choose  to  view  my  native 
country,  I  must  go  in  company  with  an  Italian." 

"Because  a  young  man,"  said  the  abb6,  with  a  certain  imposing 
earnestness,  "  is  always  called  upon  to  form  connections." 

Wilhelm,  feeling  that  he  could  not  long  retain  his  self-command, 
as  it  was  Natalia's  presence  only  which  in  some  degree  assuaged  his 
indignation,  hastily  made  answer  :  "  Give  me  a  little  while  to  think. 
I  imagine  it  will  not  be  very  hard  to  settle  whether  I  am  called  upon 


412  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

to  form  additional  connections,  or  ordered  irresistibly,  by  heart  and 
head,  to  free  myself  from  such  a  multiplicity  of  bonds,  which  seem 
to  threaten  me  with  a  perpetual,  miserable  thraldom." 

Thus  he  spoke,  with  a  deeply-agitated  mind.  A  glance  at  Natalia 
somewhat  calmed  him  :  her  form  and  dignity,  in  this  impas- 
sioned moment,  stamped  themselves  more  deeply  on  his  mind  than 
ever. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  so  soon  as  he  was  by  himself,  "confess  it,  thou 
lovest  her  ;  thou  once  more  feelest  what  it  means  to  love  with  thy 
whole  soul.  Tlius  did  1  love  Mariana,  and  deceive  myself  so  dread- 
fully ;  I  loved  Pbilina,  and  could  not  help  despising  her.  Aurelia  I 
respected,  and  could  not  love  :  Theresa  I  reverenced,  and  paternal 
tenderness  assumed  the  form  of  an  affection  for  her.  And  now  when 
all  the  feelings  that  can  make  a  mortal  happy  meet  within  my  heart, 
now  I  am  compelled  to  fly  !  Ah  !  Avhy  should  these  feelings  and  con- 
victions be  combined  with  an  insuperable  longing  ?  Why,  without 
the  hope  of  its  fulfillment,  should  they  utterly  subvert  all  other  hap- 
piness ?  Shall  the  sun  and  the  world,  society  or  any  other  gift  of 
fortune,  ever  henceforth  yield  me  pleasure  ?  Shalt  thou  not  forever 
say  :  Natalia  is  not  liere  !  And  yet,  alas,  Natalia  will  be  always  pres- 
ent to  thee  !  If  thou  closest  thy  eyes,  she  will  appear  to  thee  :  if 
thou  openest  them,  her  form  will  flit  before  all  outward  things,  like 
the  image  which  a  dazzling  object  leaves  behind  it  in  the  eye.  Did 
not  the  swiftly  passing  figure  of  the  Amazon  dwell  continually  in 
thy  imagination  ?  And  yet  thou  hadst  but  seen  her,  thou  didst  not 
know  her.  Now,  when  thou  knowest  her,  when  thou  hast  been  so 
long  beside  her,  when  she  has  shown  such  care  about  thee  ;  now  are 
her  qualities  impressed  as  deeply  upon  thy  soul,  as  her  form  was  tlien 
upon  thy  fancy.  It  is  painful  to  be  always  seeking  ;  but  far  more 
painful  to  have  found,  and  to  be  forced  to  leave.  What  now  shall  I 
ask  for  farther  in  the  world  ?  What  now  shall  I  look  for  farther  ? 
Is  there  a  country,  a  city  that  contains  a  treasure  such  as  this  ?  And 
I  must  travel  on,  and  ever  find  inferiority  ?  Is  life,  then,  like  a  race- 
course, where  a  man  must  rapidly  return,  when  he  has  reached  the 
utmost  end  ?  Does  the  good,  the  excellent  stand  before  ns  like  a  firm 
unmoving  goal,  from  which  with  fleet  horses  we  are  forced  away,  the 
instant  we  appeared  to  have  attained  it?  Happier  are  they  who  strive 
for  earthly  wares?  They  find  what  they  are  seeking  in  its  proper  cli- 
mate, or  they  buy  it  in  the  fair. 

"  Come,  my  own  boy !"  cried  he  to  Felix,  who  now  ran  frisking 
towards  him  :  "be  thou,  and  remain  thou,  all  to  me!  Thou  wert 
given  me  as  a  compensation  for  thy  loved  mother  ;  thou  wert  to 
replace  the  second  mother  Avhom  I  meant  for  thee  ;  and  now  thou 
hast  a  loss  still  greater  to  make  good.  Occupy  my  heart,  occupy  my 
spirit  with  thy  beauty,  thy  loveliness,  thy  capabilities,  and  thy  desire 
to  use  them  !  " 

The  boy  was  busied  with  a  new  plaything  :  his  father  tried  to  put 


BOOK  VIIL  CHAPTER  VII.  413 

it  in  a  better  state  for  him  ;  just  as  he  succeeded,  Folix'had  lost  all 
pleasure  in  it.  "Thou  art  a  true  son  of  Adam  !"  cried  Wilhelm. 
"  Come,  my  child  !  Come,  my  brother  !  let  us  wander,  playing  with- 
out object,  through  the  world,  as  we  best  may." 

His  resolution  to  remove,  to  take  the  boy  along  with  him,  and 
recreate  his  mind  by  looking  at  the  world,  had  now  assumed  a  settled 
form.  lie  wrote  to  Werner  for  the  necessary  cash  and  letters  of 
credit ;  sending  Friedrich's  courier  on  the  message,  with  the  strictest 
charges  to  return  immediately.  Much  as  the  conduct  of  his  other 
friends  had  grieved  him,  his  relation  to  Natalia  remained  serene  and 
clear  as  ever. 

He  confided  to  her  his  intention :  she  took  it  as  a  settled  thing  that 
he  would  go  ;  and  if  this  seeming  carelessness  in  her  chagrined  him, 
her  kindly  manner  and  her  presence  made  him  calm.  She  counseled 
him  to  visit  various  towns,  that  he  might  get  acquainted  with  certain 
of  her  friends.  The  courier  returned,  and  bi-ought  the  letter  which 
our  friend  required,  though  Werner  did  not  seem  content  with  this 
new  whim.  "  My  hope  that  thou  wert  growing  reasonable,"  so  the 
letter  ran,  "is  now  again  deferred.  Where  are  you  all  gadding? 
And  where  lingers  the  lady  who,  thou  saidst,  was  to  assist  us  in 
arranging  these  affairs  ?  Thy  other  friends  also  are  absent ;  they 
have  thrown  the  whole  concern  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  lawyer  and 
myself.  Happy  that  he  is  as  expert  a  jurist  as  I  am  a  financier  ;  and 
that  both  of  us  are  used  to  business.  Fare  thee  well  !  Thy  aberra- 
tions shall  be  pardoned  thee  ;  since  but  for  them,  our  situation  here 
could  not  have  been  so  favorable." 

So  far  as  outward  matters  were  concerned,  Wilhelm  might  now 
have  entered  on  his  journey  ;  but  there  were  still,  for  his  heart,  two 
hindrances  that  held  him  fast.  In  the  first  place,  they  flatly  refused 
to  show  him  Mignon's  body  till  the  funeral  the  abbe  meant  to  cele- 
brate ;  and  for  this  solemnity  the  preparations  were  not  ready.  There 
had  also  been  a  curious  letter  from  the  country  clergyman,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  the  doctor  had  gone  off.  It  related  to  the  harper  ; 
of  whose  fate  Wilhelm  wanted  to  have  farther  information. 

In  these  circumstances,  day  or  night  he  found  no  rest  for  mind  or 
body.  When  all  were  asleep,  he  wandered  up  and  down  the  house. 
The  presence  of  the  pictures  and  statues,  which  he  knew  so  well  of 
old,  alternately  attracted  and  repelled  him.  Nothing  that  surrounded 
hira  could  he  lay  hold  of  or  let  go  ;  all  things  reminded  him  of  all  ; 
the  whole  ring  of  his  existence  lay  before  liim  ;  but  it  was  broken 
into  fragments,  and  seemed  as  if  it  would  never  unite  again.  These 
works  of  art,  which  his  father  had  sold,  appeared  to  him  an  omen 
that  he  himself  was  destined  never  to  obtain  a  lasting,  calm  posses- 
sion of  anything  desirable  in  life,  or  always  to  be  robbed  of  it  so  soon 
as  gained,  by  his  own  or  other  people's  blame.  He  waded  so  deep  in 
these  strange  and  dreary  meditations,  that  often  he  almost  thought 
himself  a  disembodied  spirit  ;  and  even  when  he  felt  and  handled 


414  ME  1ST  eh;  S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

things  without  liim,  he  could  scarcely  keep  himself  from  doubting 
whether  he  was  really  there  and  alive. 

Nothing  but  the  piercing  grief,  which  often  seized  him,  but  the 
tears  he  shed  at  being  forced,  by  causes  frivolous  as  they  were  irre- 
sistible, to  leave  the  good  which  he  had  found,  and  found  after  having 
lost  it — restored  him  to  the  feeling  of  his  earthly  life.  It  was  in  vain 
to  call  before  his  mind  his  happy  state  in  other  respects.  "All  is 
nothing,  then,"  exclaimed  he,  "if  the  one  blessing,  which  appears  to 
us  worth  all  the  rest,  is  wanting  !  " 

The  abbe  told  the  company  that  the  marchese  was  arrived.  "  You 
have  determined,  it  appears,"  said  he  to  Wilhelm,  "to  set  out  upon 
your  travels  with  your  boy  alone.  Get  acquainted  with  this  noble- 
man, however  ;  he  will  be  useful  to  you,  if  you  meet  him  by  the 
way."  The  marchese  entered:  he  was  a  person  not  yet  very  far 
advanced  in  years  ;  a  fine,  handsome,  pleasing  Lombard  figure.  In 
his  youth,  while  in  the  army  and  afterwards  in  public  business,  he 
had  known  Lothario's  uncle  ;  they  had  subsequently  traveled  through 
the  greater  part  of  Italy  together  ;  and  many  of  the  works  of  art, 
which  the  marchese  now  again  fell  in  with,  had  been  purchased  in 
his  presence,  and  under  various  happy  circumstances,  which  he  still 
distinctly  recollected. 

The  Italians  have  in  general  a  deeper  feeling  for  the  high  dignity 
of  art  than  any  other  nation.  In  Italy,  whoever  follows  the  employ- 
ment, tries  to  pass  at  once  for  artist,  master  and  professor  ;  b}'  which 
pretensions  he  acknowledges,  at  least,  that  it  is  not  sufiicient  merely 
to  lay.  hold  of  some  transmitted  excellency,  or  to  acquire  by  practice 
some  dexterity  ;  but  that  a  man  who  aims  at  art,  should  have  the 
power  to  think  of  what  he  does,  to  lay  down  principles,  and  make 
apjjarent  to  himself  and  others  how  and  wherefore  he  proceeds  in  this 
way  or  in  that. 

The  stranger  was  affected  at  again  beholding  these  productions, 
when  the  owner  of  them  was  no  more  ;  and  cheered  to  see  the  spirit 
of  his  friend  surviving  in  the  gifted  persons  left  behind  him.  Tliey 
discussed  a  series  of  works  ;  they  found  a  lively  satisfaction  in  the 
harmony  of  their  ideas.  The  marchese  and  the  abb6  were  the  speak- 
ers. Natalia  felt  herself  again  transported  to  the  presence  of  her 
uncle,  and  could  enter  without  difiiculiy  into  their  opinions  and  criti- 
cisms :  Wilhelm  could  not  understand  them,  except  as  he  translated 
their  technology  into  dramatic  language.  Friedrich's  facetious  vein 
was  sometimes  rather  difficult  to  keep  in  check.  Jarno  was  seldom 
there. 

It  being  observed  that  excellent  works  of  art  were  very  rare  in 
latter  times,  it  was  remarked  by  the  marchese:  "We  can  liardly 
think  or  estimate  how  many  circumstances  must  combine  in  favor  of 
the  artist  :  with  the  greatest  genius,  with  the  most  decisive  talent, 
the  demands  which  he  must  make  upon  himself  are  infinite,  the  dili- 
gence required  in  cultivating  his  endowments  is  unspeakable.    Now, 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  VIL  415 

if  circumstances  are  not  in  his  favor ;  if  he  observed  that  the  world 
is  very  easy  to  be  satisfied,  requiring  but  a  slight,  pleasing,  transi- 
tory show,  it  were  matter  of  surprise  if  indolence  and  selfishness  did 
not  keep  him  fixed  at  mediocrity  ;  it  were  strange  if  he  did  not 
rather  think  of  bartering  modish  wares  for  gold  and  praises,  than  of 
entering  on  the  proper  path,  which  could  not  fail  in  some  degree  to 
lead  him  to  a  sort  of  painful  martyrdom.  Accordingly,  the  artists  of 
our  time  are  always  offering  and  never  giving.  They  always  aim  at 
charming,  and  they  never  satisfy  ;  everything  is  merely  indicated  ; 
you  can  nowhere  find  foundation  or  completion.  Tliose  for  whom 
they  labor,  it  is  true,  are  little  better.  If  you  wait  a  while  in  any 
gallery  of  pictures,  and  observe  what  works  attract  the  many,  what 
are  praised  and  what  neglected,  you  have  little  pleasure  in  the  pres- 
ent, little  hope  in  the  future." 

"Yes,"  replied  the  abb6  ;  "and  thus  it  is  that  artists  and  their 
judges  mutually  form  each  other.  Tlie  latter  ask  for  nothing  but  a 
general  vague  enjoyment,  a  work  of  art  is  to  delight  them  almost  as 
a  work  of  nature  ;  they  imagine  that  the  organs  for  enjoying  may' 
be  cultivated  altogether  of  themselves,  like  the  tongue  and'  the  pal- 
ate ;  they  try  a  picture  or  a  poem  as  they  do  an  article  of  food. 
They  do  not  understand  how  very  different  a  species  of  culture  it 
requires  to  raise  one  to  the  true  enjoyment  of  art.  The  hardest  part 
of  it,  in  my  opinion,  is  that  sort  of  separation  which  a  man  that  aims 
at  perfect  culture  must  accomplish  in  himself.  It  is  on  this  account 
that  we  observe  so  many  people  partially  cultivated,  and  yet  every 
one  of  them  attempting  to  pronounce  upon  the  general  whole." 

"Your  last  remark  is  not  quite  clear  to  me,"  said  Jarno,  who  came 
in  just  then. 

"  It  would  be  difficult,"  replied  the  abbe,  "  to  explain  it  fully  with- 
out a  long  detail.  Thus  much  I  may  say  :  When  any  man  pretends 
to  mix  in  manifold  activity  or  manifold  enjoyment,  he  must  also  be 
enabled,  as  it  were,  to  make  his  organs  manifold  and  independent  of 
each  other.  Whoever  aims  at  doing  or  enjoying  all  and  everything 
with  his  entire  nature  ;  whoever  tries  to  link  together  all  that  is 
without  him  by  such  a  species  of  enjoyment  will  only  lose  his  time 
in  efforts  that  can  never  be  successful.  How  difficult,  though  it 
seems  so  easy,  is  it  to  contemplate  a  noble  disposition,  a  fine  picture 
simply  in  and  for  itself  ;  to  watch  the  raitsic  for  the  music's  sake  ;  to 
admire  the  actor  in  the  actor  ;  to  take  pleasure  in  a  building  for 
its  own  peculiar  harmony  and  durability  !  Most  men  are  wont  to 
treat  a  work  of  art,  though  fixed  and  done,  as  if  it  were  a  piece  of 
soft  clay.  The  hard  and  polished  marble  is  again  to  mold  itself,  the 
firm-walled  edifice  is  to  contract  or  to  expand  itself,  according  as 
their  inclinations,  sentiments,  and  whims  may  dictate  ;  the  picture 
is  to  be  instructive,  the  play  to  make  us  better,  everything  is  to  do 
all.  The  reason  is  that  most  men  are  themselves  unformed,  they 
cannot  give  themselves  and  their  being  any  certain  shape  ;  and  thus 


416  MEISTER'S  APPBENTIGESHIP. 

tliey  strive  to  take  from  other  thiugs  tlieir  proper  shape,  that  all 
they  have  to  do  with  may  be  loose  and  wavering  like  themselves. 
Everything  is,  in  the  long  run,  reduced  by  them  to  what  they  call 
effect ;  everything  is  relative,  say  they  ;  and  so,  indeed,  it  is  ;  every- 
thing with  them  grows  relative,  except  absurdity  and  platitude, 
which  truly  are  absolute  enough." 

"  I  understand  you,"  answered  Jarno  ;  "  or  rather  I  perceive  how 
what  you  have  been  saying  follows  from  the  principles  you  hold  so 
fast  by.  Yet,  with  men,  poor  devils,  we  should  not  go  to  quest  so 
strictly.  I  know  enough  of  them,  in  truth,  who,  beside  the  greatest 
works  of  art  and  nature,  forthwith  recollect  their  own  most  paltry 
insufficiency  ;  who  take  their  conscience  and  their  morals  with  them 
to  the  opera  :  who  bethink  them  of  their  loves  and  hatreds  in  con- 
templating a  colonnade.  The  best  and  greatest  that  can  be  pre- 
sented to  them  from  without,  they  must  first,  as  far  as  possible, 
diminish  in  their  way  of  representing  it,  that  they  may  in  any  meas- 
ure be  enabled  to  combine  it  with  their  own  sorry  nature," 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


The  abbe  called  them,  in  the  evening,  to  attend  the  exequies  of 
Mignou.  The  company  proceeded  to  the  hall  of  the  past  ;  they 
found  it  magnificently  ornamented  and  illuminated.  The  walls  were 
hung  with  azure  tapestry  almost  from  ceiling  to  floor,  so  that  nothing 
but  the  friezes  and  socles,  above  and  below,  were  visible.  On  the 
four  candelabra  in  the  corners,  large  wax-lights  were  burning ; 
smaller  lights  were  in  the  four  smaller  candelabra  placed  by  the  sar- 
cophagus in  the  middle.  Near  this  stood  four  boys,  dressed  in  azure 
with  silver  ;  they  had  broad  fans  of  ostrich  feathers,  which  they 
waved  above  a  figure  that  was  resting  upon  the  sarcophagus.  The 
company  sat  down  ;  two  invisible  choruses  began  in  a  soft  musical 
recitative  to  ask  :  "  Whom  bring  ye  us  to  the  still  dwelling?"  The 
four  boys  replied  with  lovely  voices  :  " 'Tis  a  tired  playmate  whom 
we  bring  you  ;  let  her  rest  in  your  still  dwelling,  till  the  songs  of  her 
heavenly  sisters  once  more  awaken  her." 

CHORUS. 

Firstling  of  youth  in  our  circle,  we  welcome  thee  !  With  sadness 
welcome  thee  !  May  no  boy,  no  maiden  follow  !  Let  age  only,  willing 
and  composed,  approach  the  silent  hall,  and  in  the  solemn  company, 
repose  this  one  dear  child  ! 

BOYS. 

Ah,  reluctantly  we  brought  her  hither  !  Ah,  and  she  is  to  remain 
here  !     Let  us  too  remain  ;  let  us  weep,  let  us  weep  upon  her  bier  ! 


SBOOlL  VIII.  CHAPTEB  VIII.  417 

CHORUS. 
Yet  look  at  the  strong  wings  ;  look  at  the  light  clear  robe  !     How- 
glitters  the  golden  band  upon  her  head  !     Look  at  the  beautiful,  the 
noble  repose  I 

BOYS. 

Ah  !  the  wings  do  not  raise  her  ;  in  the  frolic  game,  her  robe  flutters 
to  and  fro  no  more  ;  when  we  bound  her  head  with  roses  her  looks  on 
us  were  kind  and  friendly. 

CHORUS. 

Cast  forward  the  eye  of  the  spirit  !  Awake  in  your  souls  the 
imaginative  power,  which  carries  forth,  what  is  fairest,  what  is  high- 
eet,  life,  away  beyond  the  stars. 

BOYS. 
But  ah  !  we  find  her  not  here  ;  in  the  garden  she  wanders  not  ;  the 
flowers  of  the  meadow  she  plucks  no  longer.     Let  us  weep,  we  are 
leaving  her  here  !     Let  us  weep  and  remain  with  her  I 

CHORUS. 
Children,  turn  back  into  life  !     Your  tears  let  the  fresh  air  dry, 
which   plays  upon  the  rushing  water.     Fly  from  night  !    Day  and 
pleasure  and  continuance  are  the  lot  of  the  living. 

BOYS. 
Up  !   Turn  back  into  life  !   Let  the  day  give  us  labor  and  pleasure, 
till  the  evening  brings  us  rest,  and  the  nightly  sleep  refreshes  us. 

CHORUS. 
Children  !     Hasten   into   life  !     In   the  pure  garments  of   beauty, 
may  love   meet  you  with  heavenly  looks  and  with  the  wreath  of  im- 
mortality I 

The  boys  had  retired  ;  the  abbe  rose  from  his  seat,  and  went  behind 
the  bier.  "It  is  the  appointment,"  said  he,  "  of  the  man  who  pre- 
pared this  silent  abode,  that  each  new  tenant  of  it  .shall  be  introduced 
with  a  solemnity.  After  him,  the  builder  of  this  mansion,  the 
founder  of  this  establishment,  we  have  next  brought  a  young  stranger 
hither  :  and  thus  already  does  this  little  space  contain  two  altogether 
different  victims  of  the  rigorous,  arbitrary,  and  inexorable  deatli- 
goddess.  By  appointed  laws  we  enter  into  life  ;  the  days  are  num- 
bered which  make  us  ripe  to  see  the  light  ;  but  for  the  duration  of 
Aur  life  there  is  no  law.  The  weakest  thread  will  spin  itself  to  unex- 
pected length  ;  and  the  strongest  is  cut  suddenly  asunder  by  the 
scissors  of  the  fates,  delighting,  as  it  seems,  in  contradictions.  Of  the 
child,  whom  we  have  here  committed  to  her  final  rest,  we  can  say  but 
little.  It  is  still  uncertain  whence  she  came  ;  her  parents  we  know 
not ;  the  years  of  her  life  we  can  only  conjecture.  Her  deep  and 
Meister — 14 


m  MEISTER'S  APPRENTWESHlP. 

closely  shrouded  soul  allowed  us  scarce  to  guess  at  its  interior  move- 
ments :  there  was  nothing  clear  in  her,  nothing  open  but  her  affection 
for  the  man,  who  had  snatched  her  from  the  hands  of  a  barbarian. 
This  impassioned  tenderness,  this  vivid  gratitude,  appeared  to  be  the 
tiame  which  consumed  the  oil  of  her  life  :  the  skill  of  the  physician 
could  not  save  that  fair  life,  the  most  anxious  friendship  could  not 
lengthen  it.  But  if  art  could  not  stay  the  departing  spirit,  it  has 
done  its  utmost  to  preserve  the  body,  and  withdraw  it  from  decay.  A 
balsamic  substance  has  been  forced  through  all  the  veins,  and  now 
tinges,  in  place  of  blood,  these  cheeks  too  early  faded.  Come  near, 
my  friends,  and  view  this  wonder  of  art  and  care  ! " 

He  raised  the  veil  :  the  child  was  lying  in  her  angel's  dress,  as  if 
asleep,  in  the  most  soft  and  graceful  posture.  They  approached,  and 
admired  this  show  of  life.  Wilhelm  alone  continued  sitting  in  his 
place  :  he  was  not  able  to  compose  himself  ;  what  he  felt  he  durst 
not  think  ;  and  every  thought  seemed  ready  to  destroy  his  feeling. 

For  the  sake  of  the  niarchese,  the  speech  had  been  pronounced  in 
French.  That  nobleman  came  forward  with  the  rest,  and  viewed  the 
figure  with  attention.  The  abbe  thus  proceeded  :  "  With  a  holy  con- 
fidence, this  kind  heart,  shut  up  to  men,  was  continually  turned  to  its 
God.  Humility,  nay,  au  inclination  to  abase  herself  externally,  seemed 
natural  to  her.  She  clave  with  zeal  to  the  Catholic  religion,  in  which 
she  had  been  born  and  educated.  Often  she  expressed  a  still  wish  to 
sleep  on  consecrated  ground  ;  and  according  to  the  usage  of  the 
church,  we  have  tlierefore  consecrated  this  marble  coffin,  and  the 
little  earth  which  is  hidden  in  the  cushion  that  supports  her  head. 
With  what  ardor  did  she  in  her  last  moments  kiss  the  image  of  the 
Crucified,  which  stood  beautifull}"  figured  on  her  tender  arm,  with 
many  hundred  points  ! "  So  saying,  he  stripped  up  her  right  sleeve  ; 
and  a  crucifix,  with  marks  and  letters  round  it,  showed  itself  in  blue 
upon  the  white  skin. 

The  marchese  looked  at  this  with  eagerness,  stooping  down  to  view 
it  more  intensely.  "O  God!"  cried  he,  as  he  stood  upright,  and 
raised  his  hands  to  heaven.  "Poor  child  !  Unhappy  niece !  Do  I 
meet  thee  here  !  What  a  painful  joy  to  find  thee,  whom  we  had  long 
lost  hope  of  ;  to  find  this  dear  frame,  which  we  had  long  believed  the 
prey  of  fishes  in  the  ocean,  here  preserved,  though  lifeless  !  I  assist 
at  thy  funeral,  splendid  in  its  external  circumstances,  still  more 
splendid  from  the  noble  persons  who  attend  thee  to  thy  place  of  rest. 
And  to  these,"  added  he  with  a  faltering  voice,  "so  soon  as  I  can 
speak,  I  will  express  my  thanks." 

Tears  hindered  him  from  saying  more.  By  the  pressure  of  a  spring, 
the  abbe  sank  the  body  into  the  cavity  of  the  marble.  Four  youths, 
dressed  as  the  boys  had  been,  came  out  from  behind  the  tapestry  ;  and 
lifting  the  heavy,  beautifully  ornamented  lid  of  the  coffin,  thus  began 
their  song : 


BOOK  rill  CHAPTER  IX.  419 

THE   YOUTHS. 

Well  is  the  treasure  now  laid  up  ;  the  fair  image  of  the  past  !  Here 
sleeps  it  in  the  marble,  uudecaying  ;  in  your  hearts  too  it  lives,  it 
works.  Travel,  travel,  back  into  life  !  Take  along  with  you  this 
holy  earnestness  ; — for  earnestness  alone  makes  life  eternity. 

The  invisible  chorus  joined  in  with  the  last  words  ;  but  no  one 
heard  the  strengthening  sentiment  ;  all  were  too  much  busied  with 
themselves,  and  the  emotions  which  these  wonderful  disclosures  had 
excited.  The  abb^  and  Natalia  conducted  the  marchese  out  ;  Theresa 
and  Lothario  walked  by  Wilhelm.  It  was  not  till  the  music  had 
altogether  died  away,  that  their  sorrows,  thoughts,  meditations,  curi- 
osity again  fell  on  them  with  all  their  force,  and  made  them  long  to 
be  transported  back  into  that  exalting  scene. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


The  marchese  avoided  speaking  of  the  matter  ;  but  had  long  secret 
conversations  with  the  abb^.  When  the  company  was  met  he  often 
asked  for  music  ;  a  request  to  which  they  willingly  assented,  as  each 
was  glad  to  be  delivered  from  the  charge  of  talking.  Thus  they  lived 
for  some  time,  till  it  was  observed  that  he  was  making  preparations 
for  departure.  One  day  he  observed  to  Wilhelm  :  "  I  wish  not  to  dis- 
turb the  remains  of  this  beloved  child  ;  let  her  rest  in  the  place  where 
she  loved  and  suffered  ;  but  her  friends  must  promise  to  visit  me  in 
her  native  country  ;  in  the  scene  where  she  was  born  and  bred  ;  they 
must  see  the  pillars  and  statues,  of  which  a  dim  idea  remained  with 
her.  I  will  lead  you  to  the  bays,  where  she  liked  so  well  to  roam 
and  gather  pebbles.  You,  at  least,  young  friend,  shall  not  escape  the 
gratitude  of  a  family  that  stands  so  deeply  indebted  to  you.  To- 
morrow I  set  out  on  my  journey.  The  abb6  is  acquainted  with  the 
whole  history  of  this  matter  :  he  will  tell  it  you  again.  He  could 
pardon  me  when  grief  interrupted  my  recital  ;  as  a  third  party  he 
will  be  enabled  to  narrate  the  incidents  with  more  connection.  If,  as 
the  abbe  had  proposed,  you  like  to  follow  me  in  traveling  over  Ger- 
many, you  shall  be  heartily  welcome.  Leave  not  your  boy  behind  : 
at  every  little  inconvenience  which  he  causes  us,  we  will  again  re- 
member your  attentive  care  of  my  poor  niece." 

The  same  evening,  our  party  was  surprised  by  the  arrival  of  the 
countess.  Wilhelm  trembled  in  every  joint  as  she  entered  :  she  her- 
self, though  forewarned,  kept  close  by  her  sister,  who  speedily  reached 
her  a  chair.  How  singularly  simple  was  her  attire,  how  altered  was 
her  form  !  Wilhelm  scarcely  dared  to  look  at  her  :  she  saluted  him 
with  a  kindly  air  :  a  few  general  words  addressed  to  him  did  not  con- 


420  MEISTER'S  APPBENTICE8EIP. 

ceal  her  sentiments  and  feelings.  The  marchese  had  retired  betimes  ; 
and  as  the  company  were  not  disposed  to  part  so  early,  the  abbe  now 
produced  a  manuscript.  "  The  singular  narrative  which  was  intrusted 
to  me,"  said  he,  "  I  forthwith  put  on  paper.  The  case  where  pen  and 
ink  should  least  of  all  be  spared,  is  in  recording  the  particular  circum- 
stances of  remarkable  events."  They  informed  the  countess  of  the 
matter  ;  and  the  abb6  read  as  follows,  in  the  name  of  the  marchese  : 
' '  Many  men  as  I  have  seen,  I  still  regard  my  father  as  a  very  extra- 
ordinary person.  His  character  was  noble  and  upright ;  his  ideas 
were  enlarged,  I  may  even  say  great  ;  to  himself  he  was  severe  ;  in 
all  his  plans  there  was  a  rigid  order,  in  all  his  operations  an  unbroken 
perseverance.  In  one  sense,  therefore,  it  was  easy  to  transact  and 
live  with  him  :  yet  owing  to  the  very  qualities  which  made  it  so,  he 
never  could  accommodate  himself  to  life  ;  for  he  required  from  the 
state,  from  his  neighbors,  from  his  children  and  his  servants,  the 
observance  of  all  the  laws  which  he  had  laid  upon  himself.  His  most 
moderate  demands  became  exorbitant  by  his  rigor :  and  he  never  could 
attain  to  enjoyment,  for  nothing  ever  was  completed  as  he  had  fore- 
cast it.  At  the  moment  when  he  was  erecting  a  palace,  laying  out 
a  garden,  or  acquiring  a  large  estate  in  the  highest  cultivation,  I  have 
seen  him  inwardly  convinced,  with  the  sternest  ire,  that  fate  had 
doomed  him  to  do  nothing  but  abstain  and  suffer.  In  his  exterior,  he 
maintained  the  greatest  dignity  ;  if  he  jested,  it  was  but  displaying 
the  preponderancy  of  his  understanding.  Censure  was  intolerable 
to  him  ;  the  only  time  I  ever  saw  him  quite  transported  with  rage, 
was  once  when  he  heard  that  one  of  his  establishments  was  spoken  of 
as  something  ludicrous.  In  the  same  spirit,  he  had  settled  the  disposal 
of  liis  children  and  his  fortunje.  My  eldest  brother  was  educated  as  a 
person  that  had  large  estates  to  look  for.  I  was  to  embrace  the  cleri- 
cal profession  ;  the  youngest  was  to  be  a  soldier.  I  was  of  a  lively 
temper  :  fiery,  active,  quick,  apt  for  corporeal  exercises  :  the  youngest 
rather  seemed  inclined  to  an  enthusiastic  quietism ;  devoted  to  the 
sciences,  to  music  and  poetry.  It  was  not  till  after  the  hardest  strug- 
gle, the  maturest  conviction  of  the  impossibility  of  his  project,  that 
our  father,  still  reluctantly,  agreed  to  let  us  change  vocations  ;  and 
although  he  saw  us  both  contented,  lie  could  never  suit  himself  to 
this  arrangement,  but  declared  that  nothing  good  would  come  of  it. 
The  older  he  grew  the  more  isolated  did  he  feel  himself  from  all 
society.  At  last  he  came  to  live  almost  entirely  alone.  One  old  friend, 
who  had  served  in  the  German  armies,  who  had  lost  his  wife  in  the 
campaign,  and  brought  a  daughter  of  about  ten  years  of  age  along 
with  him,  remained  his  only  visitor.  This  person  bought  a  fine  little 
property  beside  us  :  he  used  to  come  and  see  my  father  on  stated  days 
of  the  week,  and  at  stated  hours  ;  his  little  daughter  often  came  along 
with  him.  He  was  never  heard  to  contradict  my  father  ;  who  at  length 
grew  perfectly  habituated  to  him,  and  endured  him  as  the  only  toler- 
able company  he  had.     After  our  father's  death,  we  easily  observed 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  IX.  421 

that  this  old  gentleman  had  not  been  visiting  for  naught,  that  his  com- 
pliances had  been  rewarded  by  an  ample  settlement.  He  enlarged 
his  estates  ;  his  daughter  might  expect  a  handsome  portion.  The 
girl  grew  up,  and  was  extremely  beautiful  ;  my  elder  brother  often 
joked  with  me  about  her,  saying  I  should  go  and  court  her. 

"Meanwhile  brother  Augustin,  in  the  seclusion  of  his  cloister,  had 
been  spending  his  years  in  the  strangest  state  of  mind.  He  aban- 
doned hiuiself  wholly  to  the  feeling  of  a  holy  enthusiasm,  to  those 
half-spiritual,  half-physical  emotions,  which,  as  they  for  a  time  ex- 
alted him  to  the  third  heaven,  ere  long  sank  him  down  to  an  abyss  of 
powerlessness  and  vacant  misery.  While  my  father  lived,  no  change 
could  be  contemplated  :  what  indeed  could  we  have  asked  for  or  pro- 
posed ?  After  the  old  man's  death,  our  brother  visited  us  frequently  : 
his  situation,  which  at  first  afflicted  us,  in  time  became  much  more 
tolerable  :  for  his  reason  had  at  length  prevailed.  But  the  more  con- 
fidently reason  promised  him  complete  recovery  and  contentment  on 
the  pure  part  of  nature,  the  more  vehemently  did  he  require  of  us  to 
free  him  from  his  vows.  His  thoughts,  he  let  us  know,  were  turned 
upon  Sperata,  our  fair  neighbor. 

'■  My  elder  brother  had  experienced  too  much  suffering  from  the 
harshness  of  our  father,  to  look  on  the  condition  of  the  youngest 
without  sympathy.  We  spoke  with  the  family  professor,  a  worthy 
old  man  ;  we  signified  to  him  the  double  purpose  of  our  brother,  and 
requested  him  to  introduce  and  expedite  the  business.  Contrary  to 
custom,  he  delayed  ;  and  at  last,  when  Augustin  pressed  us,  and  we 
recommended  the  affair  more  keenly  to  the  clergyman,  he  had  noth- 
ing left  but  to  impart  the  strange  secret  to  us. 

"  Sperata  was  our  sister,  and  that  by  both  her  parents.  Our  mother 
had  declared  herself  with  child  at  a  tin^e  when  both  she  and  our  father 
were  advanced  in  years  ;  a  similar  occurrence  had  shortly  before  been 
made  the  stibject  of  some  merriment  in  our  neighborhood  ;  and  our 
father  to  avoid  such  ridicule,  determined  to  conceal  this  late  lawful 
fruit  of  love  as  carefully  as  people  used  to  conceal  its  earlier  acci- 
dental fruits.  Our  mother  was  delivered  secretly  ;  the  child  was 
carried  to  the  country,  and  the  old  friend  of  the  family,  who,  with 
the  confessor,  had  alone  been  trusted  with  the  secret,  easily  engaged 
to  give  her  out  for  his  daughter.  The  confessor  had  reserved  the 
right  of  disclosing  the  secret  in  case  of  extremity.  The  supposed 
father  was  now  dead  ;  Sperata  was  living  with  an  old  lady  ;  we  were 
aware  that  a  love  of  song  and  music  had  already  led  our  brother  to 
her  ;  and  ou  his  again  requiring  us  to  undo  his  former  bond,  that  he 
might  engage  himself  by  a  new  one,  it  was  necessary  that  we  should, 
as  soon  as  possible,  apprise  him  of  the  danger  he  stood  in. 

' '  He  viewed  us  with  a  wild,  contemptuous  look.  '  Spare  your  idle 
tales,'  cried  he,  '  for  children  and  credulous  fools  ;  from  me,  from  my 
heart,  they  shall  not  tear  Sperata ;  she  is  mine.  Recall,  I  pray  you, 
instantly,  your  frightful  specter,  which  would  but  harass  me  in  vain. 


422  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Sperata  is  not  my  sister  ;  she  is  my  wife  ! '  He  described  to  us,  in 
rapturous  terms,  how  this  heavenly  girl  had  drawn  him  out  of  his 
unnatural  state  of  separation  from  his  fellow-creatures  into  true  life  ; 
how  their  spirits  accorded  like  their  voices  ;  hbw  he  blessed  his  suf- 
ferings and  errors,  since  they  had  kept  clear  of  women,  till  the  moment 
when  he  wholly  and  forever  gave  himself  to  this  most  amiable  being. 
We  were  shocked  at  the  discovery,  we  deplored  his  situation,  but  we 
knew  not  how  to  help  ourselves,  for  he  declared,  with  violence,  that 
Sperata  had  a  child  by  him  within  her  bosom.  Our  confessor  did 
whatever  duty  could  suggest  to  him,  but  by  this  means  he  only  made 
the  evil  worse.  The  relations  of  nature  and  religion,  moral  rights 
and  civil  laws,  were  vehemently  attacked  and  spurned  at  by  our 
brother.  He  considered  nothing  holy  but  his  relation  to  Sperata ; 
nothing  dignified  but  the  name  of  father  and  wife.  '  These  alone,' 
cried  he,  '  are  suitable  to  nature  ;  all  else  is  caprice  and  opinion. 
Were  there  not  noble  nations  which  admitted  marriage  with  a  sister  ? 
Name  not  your  gods  !  You  never  name  them  but  when  you  wish  to 
befool  us,  to  lead  us  from  the  paths  of  nature,  and,  by  scandalous 
constraint,  to  transform  the  noblest  inclinations  into  crimes.  Unspeak- 
able are  the  perplexities,  abominable  the  abuses  into  which  you  force 
the  victims  whom  you  bury  alive. 

"  '  I  may  speak,  for  I  have  suffered  like  no  other  ;  from  the  high- 
est, sweetest  feeling  of  enthusiasm,  to  the  frightful  deserts  of  utter 
powerlessness,  vacancy,  annihilation  and  despair  ;  from  the  loftiest 
aspirations  of  preternatural  existence,  to  the  most  entire  unbelief, 
unbelief  in  myself.  All  these  horrid  grounds  of  the  cup,  so  flatter- 
ing at  the  brim,  I  have  drained  ;  and  my  whole  being  was  poisoned 
to  its  core.  And  now,  when  kind  Nature,  by  her  greatest  gift,  by 
love,  has  healed  me  ;  now,  when  in  the  arms  of  a  heavenly  creature, 
I  again  feel  that  I  am,  that  she  is,  that  out  of  this  living  union  a  third 
shall  arise  and  smile  in  our  faces  ;  now  ye  open  up  the  flames  of  your 
hell,  of  your  purgatory,  which  can  only  singe  a  sick  imagination  ;  ye 
oppose  them  to  the  vivid,  true,  indestructible  enjoyment  of  pure  love  ! 
Meet  us  under  these  cypresses,  which  turn  their  solemn  tops  to 
heaven  ;  visit  us  among  those  espaliers  where  the  citrons  and  pome- 
gi'anates  bloom  beside  us,  where  the  graceful  myrtle  stretches  out  its 
tender  flowers  to  us  ;  and  then  venture  to  disturb  us  with  your  dreary, 
paltry  nets  which  men  have  spun  ! ' 

"  Thus  for  a  long  time  he  persisted  in  a  stubborn  disbelief  of  our 
story  ;  and  when  we  assured  him  of  its  truth,  when  the  confessor 
himself  asseverated  it,  he  did  not  let  it  drive  him  from  his  point. 
'  Ask  not  the  echoes  of  your  cloisters,  not  your  moldering  parch- 
ments, not  your  narrow  whims  and  ordinances  !  Ask  Nature  and 
your  heart  ;  she  will  teach  you  what  you  should  recoil  from  ;  she 
will  point  out  to  you  with  the  strictest  finger,  over  what  she  has  pro- 
nounced her  everlasting  curse.  Look  at  the  lilies  ;  do  not  husband 
and  wife  shoot  forth  on  the  same  stalk  ?    Does  not  the  flower,  which 


BOOK  nil.  CHAPTER  IX.  423 

bore  them,  hold  them  both  ?  And  is  not  the  lily  the  type  of  inno- 
cence ;  is  not  their  sisterly  union  fruitful  ?  When  Nature  abhors, 
she  speaks  it  aloud  ;  the  creature  that  shall  not  be  is  not  produced  ; 
the  creature  that  lives  with  a  false  life  is  soon  destroyed.  Unfruit- 
fulness,  painful  existence,  early  destruction,  these  are  her  curses,  the 
marks  of  her  displeasure.  It  is  only  by  immediate  consequences  that 
she  punishes.  Look  around  you  ;  and  what  is  prohibited,  what  is 
accursed,  will  force  itself  upon  your  notice.  In  the  silence  of  the 
convent,  in  the  tumult  of  the  world,  a  thousand  practices  are  conse- 
crated and  revered,  while  her  curse  rests  on  them.  On  stagnant  idle- 
ness as  on  overstrained  toil,  on  caprice  and  superfluity  as  on  constraint 
and  want,  she  looks  down  with  mournful  eyes  ;  her  call  is  to  moder- 
ation ;  true  are  all  her  commandments,  peaceful  all  her  influences. 
The  man  who  has  suffered  as  I  have  done  has  a  right  to  be  free. 
Sperata  is  mine  ;  death  alone  shall  take  her  from  me.  How  I  shall 
retain  her,  how  I  may  be  happy,  these  are  your  cares  !  This  instant 
I  go  to  her,  and  part  from  her  no  more.' 

"  He  was  for  proceeding  to  the  boat,  and  crossing  over  to  her  ;  we 
restrained  him,  entreating  that  he  would  not  take  a  step,  which  might 
produce  the  most  tremendous  consequences.  He  should  recollect,  we 
told  him,  that  he  was  not  living  in  the  free  world  of  his  own  thoughts 
and  ideas  ;  but  in  a  constitution  of  affairs,  whose  ordinances  and  rela- 
tions had  become  inflexible  as  laws  of  nature.  The  confessor  made 
us  promise  not  to  let  him  leave  our  sight,  still  less  our  house  ;  after 
this  he  went  away,  engaging  to  return  ere  long.  What  we  had  fore- 
seen took  place  ;  reason  had  made  our  brother  strong,  but  his  heart 
was  weak  ;  the  earlier  impressions  of  religion  rose  on  him,  and  dread- 
ful doubts  along  with  them.  He  passed  two  fearful  niglits  and  days  ; 
the  confessor  came  again  to  his  assistance,  but  in  vain  !  His  enfran- 
chised understanding  acquitted  him  ;  his  feelings,  religion,  all  his 
usual  ideas  declared  him  guilty. 

"One  morning  we  found  his  chamber  empty;  on  the  table  lay  a 
note,  in  which  he  signified  that,  as  we  kept  him  prisoner  by  force,  he 
felt  liimself  entitled  to  provide  for  his  freedom  ;  that  he  meant  to  go 
directly  to  Sperata  ;  he  expected  to  escape  with  her,  and  was  pre- 
pared for  the  most  terrible  extremities,  should  any  separation  be 
attempted. 

"  The  news  of  course  aflfrighted  us  exceedingly  ;  but  the  confessor 
bade  us  be  at  rest.  Our  poor  brother  had  been  narrowly  enough  ob- 
served ;  the  boatman,  in  place  of  taking  him  across,  proceeded  with 
him  to  liis  cloister.  Fatigued  with  watching  for  the  space  of  four- 
and-twenty  hours,  he  fell  asleep,  as  the  skiff  began  to  rock  him  in 
the  moonshine  ;  and  he  did  not  awake,  till  he  saw  himself  in  the 
hands  of  his  spiritual  brethren  ;  he  did  not  recover  from  his  amaze- 
ment, till  he  heard  the  doors  of  the  convent  bolting  behind  him. 

"  Sharply  touched  at  the  fate  of  our  brother,  we  reproached  the 
confessor  for  his  cruelty ;  but  he  soon  silenced  or  convinced  us  by 


424  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  surgeon's  reason,  that  our  pity  was  destructive  to  the  patient. 
He  let  us  know  that  he  was  not  acting  on  his  own  authority,  but  by 
order  of  the  bishop  and  his  chapter  ;  that  by  this  proceeding  they 
intended  to  avoid  all  public  scandal,  and  to  shroud  the  sad  occurrence 
under  the  veil  of  a  secret  course  of  discipline  prescribed  by  the 
church.  Our  sister  they  would  spare  ;  she  was  not  to  be  told  that 
her  lover  was  her  brother.  The  charge  of  her  was  given  to  a  priest, 
to  whom  she  had  before  disclosed  her  situation.  They  contrived  to 
hide  her  pregnancy  and  her  delivery.  As  a  mother  she  felt  altogether 
happy  in  her  little  one.  Like  most  of  our  women,  she  could  neither 
write,  nor  read  writing  ;  she  gave  the  priest  many  verbal  messages 
to  carry  to  her  lover.  The  latter,  thinking  that  he  owed  this  pious 
fraud  to  a  suckling  mother,  often  brought  pretended  tidings  from  our 
brother,  whom  he  never  saw  ;  recommending  her,  in  his  name,  to  be 
at  peace  ;  begging  of  her  to  be  careful  of  herself  and  of  her  child  ; 
and  for  the  rest  to  trust  in  God. 

"  Sperata  was  inclined  by  nature  to  religious  feelings.  Her  situa- 
tion, her  solitude  increased  this  tendency  ;  the  clergyman  encour- 
aged it,  in  order  to  prepare  her  by  degrees  for  an  eternal  separation. 
Scarcely  was  her  child  weaned,  scarcely  did  he  tliink  her  body  strong 
enough  for  suffering  agony  of  mind,  when  he  began  to  paint  her 
fault  to  her  in  most  terrific  colors,  to  treat  the  crime  of  being  con- 
nected with  a  priest  as  a  sort  of  sin  against  nature,  as  a  sort  of  incest. 
For  he  had  taken  up  the  strange  thought  of  making  her  repentance 
equal  in  intensity  to  what  it  would  have  been,  had  she  known  the 
true  circumstances  of  her  error.  He  thereby  produced  so  much  anx- 
iety and  sorrow  in  her  mind  ;  he  so  exalted  the  idea  of  the  church 
and  of  its  head  before  her  ;  showed  her  the  awful  consequences,  for 
the  weal  of  all  men's  souls,  should  indulgence  in  a  case  like  this  be 
granted,  and  the  guilty  pair  rewarded  by  a  lawful  union  ;  signifying 
too  how  wholesome  it  was  to  expiate  such  sins  in  time,  and  thereby 
gain  the  crown  of  immortality — that  at  last,  like  a  poor  criminal,  she 
willingly  held  out  her  neck  to  the  axe,  and  earnestly  entreated  that 
she  might  forever  be  divided  from  our  brother.  Having  gained  so 
much,  the  clergy  left  her  the  liberty  (reserving  to  themselves  a  certain 
distant  oversight)  to  live  at  one  time  in  a  convent,  at  another  in  her 
house,  according  as  she  afterwards  thought  good. 

"  Her  little  girl  meanwhile  was  growing  :  from  her  earliest  years 
she  had  displayed  an  extraordinary  disposition.  When  still  very  young 
she  could  run,  and  move  with  wonderful  dexterity  ;  she  sang  beau- 
tifully, and  learned  to  play  upon  the  cithern  almost  of  herseW.  With 
words,  however,  she  could  not  express  herself  ;  and  the  impediment 
seemed  rather  to  proceed  from  her  mode  of  thought,  than  from  her 
organs  of  speech.  The  feelings  of  the  poor  mother  to  her,  in  the 
meantime,  were  of  the  most  painful  kind  ;  the  expostulations  of  the 
priest  had  so  perplexed  her  mind,  that  though  she  was  not  quite 
deranged,  her  state  wasifar  from  liping  sane.     She  daily  thought  her 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  IX.  425 

crime  more  terrible  and  punishable  ;  the  clergyman's  comparison  of 
incest,  frequently  repeated,  had  impressed  itself  so  deeply,  that  her 
horror  was  not  less  than  if  the  actual  circumstances  had  been  known 
to  her.  The  priest  took  no  small  credit  for  his  ingenuity,  with 
which  he  had  contrived  to  tear  asunder  a  luckless  creature's  heart. 
It  was  miserable  to  behold  maternal  love,  ready  to  expand  itself  in 
joy  at  the  existence  of  her  child,  contending  with  the  horrid  feeling 
that  this  child  should  not  be  there.  The  two  emotions  strove  to- 
gether in  her  soul  ;  love  was  often  weaker  than  aversion. 

"  The  child  had  long  ago  been  taken  from  her,  and  committed  to  a 
worthy  family  residing  on  the  seashore.  In  the  greater  freedom, 
which  the  little  creature  enjoyed  here,  she  soon  displayed  her  singu- 
lar delight  in  climbing.  To  mount  the  highest  peaks,  to  run  along 
the  edges  of  the  ships,  to  imitate  in  all  their  strangest  feats  the  rope- 
dancers,  whom  she  often  saw  in  the  place,  seemed  a  natural  tendency 
in  her. 

"  To  practice  these  things  with  the  greater  ease,  she  liked  to 
change  clothes  with  boys  :  and  though  her  foster  parents  thought 
this  highly  blamable  and  unbecoming,  we  bade  them  indulge  her 
as  much  as  possible.  Her  wild  walks  and  leapings  often  led  her  to 
a  distance  ;  she  would  lose  her  way,  and  be  long  from  home,  but  she 
always  came  back.  In  general,  as  she  returned,  she  used  to  set  her- 
self beneath  the  columns  in  the  portal  of  a  country  house  in  the 
neighborhood  :  her  people  had  now  ceased  to  look  for  her  ;  they 
waited  for  her.  She  would  tliere  lie  resting  on  the  steps  ;  and  then 
run  up  and  down  the  large  hall,  looking  at  the  statues  ;  after  which, 
if  nothing  specially  detained  her,  she  used  to  hasten  home. 

"But  at  last  our  confidence  was  balked,  and  our  indulgence  pun- 
ished. The  child  went  out,  and  did  not  come  again  :  her  little  hat 
was  found  swimming  on  the  water,  near  the  spot  where  a  torrent 
rushes  down  into  the  sea.  It  was  conjectured  that,  in  clambering 
among  the  rocks,  her  foot  had  slipped  ;  all  our  searching  could  not 
find  the  body. 

"The  thoughtless  tattle  of  her  housemates  soon  communicated 
the  occurrence  to  Sperata  ;  she  seemed  calm  and  cheerful  when  she 
heard  it  ;  hinting  not  obscurely  at  her  satisfaction  that  God  had 
pleased  to  take  her  poor  child  to  himself,  and  thus  preserved  it  from 
suffering  or  causing  some  more  dreadful  misery. 

"  On  this  occasion,  all  the  fables  which  are  told  about  our  waters 
came  to  be  the  common  talk  The  sea,  it  was  said,  required  every 
year  an  innocent  child  :  yet  it  would  endure  no  corpse,  but  sooner  or 
later  threw  it  to  the  shore  ;  nay,  the  last  joint,  though  sunk  to  the 
lowest  bottom,  must  again  come  forth.  They  told  the  story  of  a 
mother,  inconsolable  because  her  child  had  perished  in  the  sea,  who 
prayed  to  God  and  his  saints  to  grant  her  at  least  the  bones  for 
burial.  The  first  storm  threw  ashore  the  skull,  the  next  the  spine  ; 
and  after  all  was  gathered,  she  wrapped  the  bones  in  a  cloth,  and 


426  MEISTEB'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

took  them  to  the  church :  but  0  !  miraculous  to  tell  !  as  she  crossed 
the  threshold  of  the  temple,  the  packet  grew  heavier  and  heavier, 
and  at  last  when  she  laid  it  on  the  steps  of  the  altar,  the  child  began 
to  cry,  and  issued  living  from  the  cloth.  One  joint  of  the  right-hand 
little  finger  was  alone  wanting  :  this  too  the  mother  anxiously  sought 
and  found  ;  and  in  memory  of  the  event  it  was  preserved  among  the 
other  relics  of  the  church. 

' '  On  poor  Sperata  these  recitals  made  a  deep  impression  :  her  im- 
agination took  a  new  flight,  and  favored  the  emotion  of  her  heart. 
She  supposed  that  now  the  child  had  expiated,  by  its  death,  both  its 
own  sins,  and  the  sins  of  its  parents  ;  that  the  curse  and  penalty, 
which  hitherto  had  overhung  them  all,  was  at  length  wholly  re- 
moved ;  that  nothing  more  was  necessary,  could  she  only  find  the 
child's  bones,  that  she  might  carry  them  to  Rome,  where  upon  the 
steps  of  the  great  altar  in  St.  Peter's,  her  little  girl,  again  covered 
with  its  fair  fresh  skin,  would  stand  up  alive  before  the  people. 
With  its  own  eyes  it  would  once  more  look  on  father  and  mother  ; 
and  the  Pope,  convinced  that  God  and  his  saints  commanded  it,  would, 
amid  the  acclamations  of  the  people,  remit  the  parents  their  sins, 
acquit  them  of  their  oaths,  and  join  their  hands  in  wedlock. 

"  Her  looks  and  her  anxiety  were  henceforth  constantly  directed  to 
the  sea  and  the  beach.  When,  at  night  in  the  moonshine,  the  waves 
were  tossing  to  and  fro,  she  thought  every  glittering  sheet  of  foam 
was  bringing  out  her  child  ;  and  some  one  about  her  had  to  run  oflE, 
as  if  to  take  it  up  when  it  should  reach  the  shore. 

"  By  day  she  walked  unwearidly  along  the  places  where  the  pebbly 
beach  shelved  slowly  to  the  water  ;  she  gathered,  in  a  little  basket, 
all  the  bones  Avhich  she  could  find.  None  durst  tell  her  they  we^re 
the  bones  of  animals  ;  the  larger  ones  she  buried,  the  little  ones  she 
took  along  with  her.  In  this  employment  she  incessantly  persisted. 
The  clergyman,  who,  by  so  unremittingly  discharging  what  he  thought 
his  duty,  had  reduced  her  to  this  condition,  now  stood  up  for  her  with 
all  his  might.  By  his  influence,  the  people  in  the  neighborhood  were 
made  to  look  upon  her  not  as  a  distracted  person,  but  as  one  entranced  ; 
they  stood  in  reverent  attitudes  as  she  Walked  by,  and  the  children 
ran  to  kiss  her  hand. 

"  To  the  old  woman,  her  attendant  and  faithful  friend,  the  secret 
of  Sperata's  guilt  was  at  length  imparted  by  the  priest,  on  her 
solemnly  engaging  to  watch  over  the  unhappy  creature  with  untiring 
care,  through  all  her  life.  And  she  kept  this  engagement  to  the  last, 
with  admirable  conscientiousness  and  patience. 

"  Meanwhile  we  had  always  had  an  eye  upon  our  brother.  Neither 
the  physicians  nor  the  clergy  of  his  convent  would  allow  us  to  be  seen 
by  him  ;  but,  in  order  to  convince  us  of  his  being  well  in  some  sort, 
we  had  leave  to  look  at  him  as  often  as  we  liked,  in  the  garden,  the 
passages,  or  even  through  a  window  in  the  roof  of  his  apartment. 

"After  many  terrible  and  singular  changes,  which  I  shall  omit,  he 


BOOK  YIIL  CHAPTER  IX.  m 

liad  passed  into  a  strange  state  of  mental  rest  and  bodily  unrest.  He 
never  sat  but  when  he  took  his  harp  and  played  upon  it,  and  then 
ne  usually  accompanied  it  with  singing.  At  other  times,  he  kept 
continually  in  motion  ;  and  in  all  things  he  was  grown  extremely  guid- 
able  and  pliant,  for  all  his  passions  seemed  to  have  resolved  them- 
selves into  the  single  fear  of  death.  You  could  persuade  him  to  do 
anything,  by  threatening  him  with  dangerous  sickness  or  with  death. 

"  Besides  this  singularity  of  walking  constantly  about  the  cloister, 
a  practice  which  he  hinted  it  were  better  to  exchange  for  wandering 
over  hill  and  dale,  he  talked  about  an  apparition  which  perpetually 
tormented  him.  He  declared  that  on  awakening,  at  whatever  hour 
of  the  night,  he  saw  a  beautiful  boy  standing  at  the  foot  of  his  bed, 
with  a  bare  knife,  and  threatening  to  destroy  him.  They  .shifted  him 
to  various  other  chambers  of  the  convent  ;  but  he  still  asserted  that 
the  boy  pursued  him.  His  wandering  to  and  fro  became  more  unrest- 
ful ;  the  people  afterwards  remembered  too,  that  at  this  time  they 
had  often  seen  him  standing  at  the  window  looking  out  upon  the 
sea. 

"  Our  poor  sister,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  gradually  wasting 
under  the  consuming  influence  of  her  single  thought,  of  her  narrow 
occupation.  It  was  at  last  proposed  by  the  physician,  that  among 
the  bones  which  she  had  gathered,  the  fragments  of  a  child's  skeleton 
should  by  degrees  be  introduced  ;  and  so  the  hapless  mother's  hopes 
kept  up.  The  experiment  was  dubious  ;  but  this  at  least  seemed  likely 
to  be  gained  by  it,  that  when  all  the  parts  were  got  together,  she 
would  cease  her  weary  search,  and  might  be  entertained  with  hopes 
of  going  to  Rome. 

"  It  was  accordingly  res&lved  on  ;  her  attendant  changed,  by  im- 
perceptible degrees,  the  small  remains  committed  to  her  with  the 
bones  Sperata  found.  An  inconceivable  delight  arose  in  the  poor  sick 
woman's  heart,  when  the  parts  began  to  fit  each  other,  and  the  shape 
of  those  still  wanting  could  be  marked.  She  had  fastened  every 
fragment  in  its  proper  place  with  threads  and  ribbons  ;  filling  up  the 
vacant  spaces  with  embroidery  and  silk,  as  is  usually  done  with  the 
relics  of  saints. 

"  In  this  way  nearly  all  the  bones  had  been  collected  ;  none  but  a 
few  of  the  extremities  were  wanting.  One  morning,  while  she  was 
asleep,  the  physician  having  come  to  ask  for  her,  the  old  attendant, 
with  a  view  to  show  him  how  his  patient  occupied  herself,  took  away 
these  dear  remains  from  the  little  chest  where  they  lay  in  poor  Sperata's 
bedroom.  A  few  minutes  afterwards,  they  heard  her  spring  upon 
the  floor  ;  she  lifted  up  the  cloth  and  found  the  chest  empty.  She 
threw  herself  upon  her  knees  ;  they  came  and  listened  to  her  joyful, 
ardent  prayer.  '  Yes  ! '  exclaimed  she,  '  it  is  true  :  it  was  no  dream, 
it  is  real  !  Rejoice  with  me,  my  friends  !  I  have  seen  my  own  beau- 
tiful good  little  girl  again  alive.  She  arose  and  threw  the  veil  from 
off  her  ;  her  splendor  enlightened  all  the  room  ;  her  beauty  was  trans- 


428  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

figured  to  celestial  loveliness  ;  slie  could  not  tread  tlie  ground,  although 
she  wished.  Lightly  was  she  borne  aloft  ;  she  had  not  even  time  to 
stretch  her  hand  to  me.  There!  cried  she  to  me,  and  pointed  to  the 
road  where  I  am  soon  to  go.  Yes,  I  will  follow  her,  soon  follow  her  ; 
my  heart  is  light  to  think  of  it.  My  sorrows  are  already  vanished  ; 
the  sight  of  my  risen  little  one  has  given  me  a  foretaste  of  the  heav- 
enly joys.' 

' '  From  that  time  her  soul  was  wholly  occupied  with  prospects  of  the 
brightest  kind  :  she  gave  no  farther  heed  to  any  earthly  object  ;  she 
took  but  little  food  ;  her  spirits  by  degrees  cast  off  the  fetters  of  the 
body.  At  last  this  imperceptible  gradation  reached  its  head  unex- 
pectedly :  her  attendants  found  her  pale  and  motionless  ;  she  opened 
not  her  eyes  ;  she  was  what  we  call  dead. 

"  The  report  of  her  vision  quickly  spread  abroad  among  the  people, 
and  the  reverential  feeling,  which  she  had  excited  in  her  lifetime, 
soon  changed,  at  her  death,  to  the  thought  that  she  should  be  regarded 
as  in  bliss,  nay,  as  in  sanctity. 

"  When  we  were  bearing  her  to  be  interred,  a  crowd  of  persons 
pressed  with  boundless  violence  about  the  bier  ;  they  would  touch 
her  hand  ;  they  would  touch  her  garment.  In  this  impassioned  ele- 
vation, various  sick  persons  ceased  to  feel  the  pains  by  which  at  other 
times  they  were  tormented  ;  they  looked  upon  themselves  as  healed  ; 
they  declared  it,  they  praised  God  and  his  new  saint.  The  clergy 
were  obliged  to  lay  the  body  in  a  neighboring  chapel  ;  the  people 
called  for  opportunity  to  offer  their  devotion.  The  concourse  was 
incredible  :  the  mountaineers,  at  all  times  prone  to  lively  and  relig- 
ious feelings,  crowded  forward  from  their  valleys  ;  the  reverence,  the 
wonder,  the  adoration  daily  spread  and  gathered  strength.  The  ordi- 
nances of  the  bishop,  which  were  meant  to  limit,  and  in  time  abolish 
this  new  worship,  could  not  be  put  into  execution  :  every  show  of 
opposition  raised  the  people  into  tumults  ;  every  unbeliever  they  were 
ready  to  assail  with  personal  violence.  '  Did  not  Saint  Borromaeus,' 
cried  they,  '  dwell  among  our  forefathers  ?  Did  not  his  mother  live 
to  taste  the  joy  of  his  canonization?  Was  not  that  great  figure  on 
the  rocks  at  Arona  meant  to  represent  to  us,  by  a  sensible  symbol,  his 
spiritual  greatness  ?  Do  not  the  descendants  of  his  kindred  live 
among  us  to  this  hour  ?  And  has  not  God  promised  ever  to  renew 
his  miracles  among  a  people  that  believe?  ' 

"  As  the  body,  after  several  days,  exhibited  no  marks  of  putrefac- 
tion, but  grew  whiter,  and,  as  it  were,  translucent,  the  general  faith 
rose  higher  and  higher.  Among  the  multitude  were  several  cures, 
which  even  the  skeptical  observer  was  unable  to  account  for,  or  asci'ibe 
entirely  to  fraud.  The  whole  country  was  in  motion  ;  those  who  did 
not  go  to  see  it,  heard  at  least  no  other  topic  talked  of. 

"  The  convent,  where  my  brother  lived,  resounded,  like  the  land 
at  large,  with  the  noise  of  these  wonders  ;  and  the  people  felt  the 
less  restraint  in  speaking  of  them  in  his  presence,  as  in  general  he 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  X.  429 

Seemed  to  pay  no  heed  to  anything,  and  his  connection  with  the  cir- 
cumstance was  known  to  none  of  them.  But  on  this  occasion,  it 
appeared,  he  had  listened  with  attention.  He  conducted  his  escape 
with  such  dexterity  and  cunning,  that  the  manner  of  it  still  remains  a 
mystery.  We  learned  afterwards,  that  he  had  crossed  the  water  with 
a  number  of  travelers  ;  and  charged  the  boatmen,  who  observed  no 
other  singularity  about  him,  above  all  to  have  a  care  lest  their  vessel 
overset.  Late  in  the  night  he  reached  the  chapel,  where  his  hapless 
loved  one  was  resting  from  her  woes.  Only  a  few  devotees  were 
kneeling  in  the  corners  of  the  place  ;  her  old  friend  was  sitting  at 
the  head  of  the  corpse  ;  he  walked  up  to  her,  saluted  her,  and  asked 
how  her  mistress  was.  '  You  see  it,'  answered  she  with  some  embar- 
rassment. He  looked  at  the  corpse  with  a  sidelong  glance.  After 
some  delay  he  took  its  hand.  Frightened  by  its  coldness,  he  in  the 
instant  let  it  go  :  he  looked  unrestfully  around  him  ;  then  turning  to 
the  old  attendant  :  '  I  cannot  stay  with  her  at  present,'  said  he  ;  'I 
have  a  long,  long  way  to  travel  ;  but  at  the  proper  time  I  shall  be 
back  :  tell  her  so  when  she  awakens.' 

"  With  this  he  went  away.  It  was  a  while  before  we  got  intelli- 
gence of  these  occurrences  :  we  searched,  but  all  our  efforts  to  discover 
him  were  vain.  How  he  worked  his  way  across  the  mountains,  none 
can  say.  A  long  time  after  he  was  gone,  we  came  upon  a  trace  of 
him  among  the  Orisons  ;  but  we  were  too  late  ;  it  quickly  vanished. 
We  supposed  that  he  was  gone  to  Germany  ;  but  his  weak  footprints 
had  been  speedily  obliterated  by  the  war." 


CHAPTER  X. 


The  abb6  ceased  to  read  :  no  one  had  listened  without  tears.  The 
countess  scarcely  ever  took  her  handkerchief  from  her  eyes  ;  at  last 
she  rose,  and,  with  Natalia,  left  the  room.  The  rest  were  silent,  till 
the  abb6  thus  began  :  "The  question  now  arises,  whether  we  shall 
let  the  good  marchese  leave  us  without  telling  him  our  secret.  For 
who  can  doubt  a  moment,  that  our  harper  and  his  br/)ther  Augustin 
are  one  ?  Let  us  consider  what  is  to  be  done  ;  both  for  the  sake  of 
that  unhappy  man  himself,  and  of  his  family.  My  advice  is,  not  to 
hurry,  but  to  wait  till  we  have  heard  what  news  the  doctor,  who  is 
gone  to  see  him,  brings  us  back." 

All  were  of  the  same  opinion  ;  and  the  abb6  thus  proceeded : 
"Another  question,  which  perhaps  may  be  disposed  of  sooner,  still 
remains.  The  marchese  is  affected  to  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  at  the 
kindness  which  his  poor  niece  experienced  here,  particularly  from  our 
young  friend.  He  made  me  tell  him,  and  repeat  to  him  every  circum- 
stance connected  with  her  ;  and  he  showed  the  liveliest  gratitude  on 


Ano  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

hearing  it.  '  Her  young  benefactor,'  lie  said,  '  refused  to  travel  witli 
ine,  wliile  he  knew  not  the  connection  that  subsists  between  us.  I  am 
not  now  a  stranger,  of  whose  manner  of  existence,  of  whose  humors 
he  might  be  uncertain  :  I  am  his  associate,  his  relation  ;  and  as  his 
unwillingness  to  leave  his  boy  behind  was  the  impediment  which  kept 
him  from  accompanying  me,  let  this  child  now  become  a  fairer  bond 
to  join  us  still  more  closely.  Besides  the  services  which  I  already 
owe  him,  let  him  be  of  service  to  me  on  my  present  journey  ;  let  him 
then  return  along  with  me  ;  my  elder  brother  will  receive  him  as  he 
ought.  And  let  him  not  despise  the  heritage  of  his  unhappy  foster- 
child  ;  for,  by  a  secret  stipulation  of  our  father  with  his  military 
friend,  the  foitune  which  he  gave  Sperata  has  returned  to  us,  and 
certainly  we  will  not  cheat  our  niece's  benefactor  of  the  recompense 
which  he  has  merited  so  well.'  " 

Theresa,  taking  Wilhelm  by  the  hand,  now  said  to  him  :  "  We 
have  here  another  beautiful  example  that  disinterested  well-doing 
yields  the  highest  and  best  return.  Follow  the  call,  which  so 
strangely  comes  to  you  ;  and  while  you  lay  a  double  load  of  grati- 
tude on  the  marchese,  hasten  to  a  fair  land,  "which  has  already  often 
drawn  your  heart  and  your  imagination  towai'ds  it." 

"  I  leave  myself  entirely  to  the  guidance  of  my  friends  and  you," 
said  Wilhelm.  "  It  is  vain  to  think,  in  this  world,  of  adhering  to  our 
individual  will.  What  I  purposed  to  hold  fast,  I  must  let  go  ;  and 
benefits  which  I  have  not  deserved  descend  upon  me  of  their  own 
accord. " 

With  a  gentle  pressure  of  Theresa's  hand,  Wilhelm  took  his  own 
away.  "  I  give  you  full  permission,"  said  he  to  the  abbe,  "  to  decide 
about  me  as  you  please.  Since  I  shall  not  need  to  leave  my  Felix,  I 
am  ready  to  go  anywhither,  and  to  undertake  whatever  you  think 
good." 

Thus  authorized,  the  abbe  forthwith  sketched  out  his  plan.  The 
marchese,  he  proposed,  should  be  allowed  to  depart ;  Wilhelm  was 
to  wait  for  tidings  from  the  doctor  ;  he  might  then,  when  they  had 
settled  what  was  to  be  done,  set  off  with  Felix.  Accordingly,  under 
the  pretense  that  Wilhelm's  preparations  for  his  journey  would 
detain  liim,  he  advised  the  stranger  to  employ  the  meanwhile  in 
examining  the  cviriosities  of  the  city  which  he  meant  to  visit.  The 
marchese  did  in  consequence  depart ;  and  not  without  renewed  and 
strong  expressions  of  his  gratitude  ;  of  which,  indeed,  the  presents 
left  by  him,  including  jewels,  precious  stones,  embroidered  stuffs, 
afforded  a  sufficient  proof. 

Wilhelm  too  was  at  length  in  readiness  for  traveling  ;  and  his 
friends  began  to  be  distressed  that  the  doctor  sent  them  no  news. 
They  feared  some  mischief  had  befallen  the  poor  old  harper,  at  the 
very  moment  when  they  were  in  hopes  of  radically  improving  his  con- 
dition. They  sent  tlie  courier  off  ;  but  he  was  scarcely  gone,  when 
the  doctor  in  the  evening  entered  with  a  stranger,  whose  form  and 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  X.  431 

aspect  were  expressive,  earnest,  striking,  and  whom  no  one  knew. 
Both  stood  silent  for  a  space  ;  tlie  stranger  at  length  went  up  to 
Wilhelm,  and  holding  out  his  hand  said:  "Do  you  not  know  your 
old  friend,  then  ?  It  was  the  harper's  voice  ;  but  of  his  form  there 
seemed  to  remain  no  vestige.  He  was  in  the  common  garb  of  a 
traveler,  cleanly  and  genteelly  equipped  ;  his  beard  had  vanished  ;  his 
hair  was  dressed  with  some  attention  to  the  mode  ;  and  what  particu- 
larly made  him  quite  irrecognizable  was,  that  in  his  countenance  the 
look  of  age  was  no  longer  visible.  Wilhelm  embraced  him  with  the 
liveliest  joy  :  he  was  presented  to  the  rest  ;  and  behaved  himself 
with  great  propriety,  not  knowing  that  the  party  had  a  little  while 
before  become  so  well  acquainted  with  him.  "  You  will  have  patience 
with  a  man,"  continued  he  with  great  composure,  "  who,  grown 
up  as  he  appears,  is  entering  on  the  world,  after  long  sorrows, 
inexperienced  as  a  child.  To  this  skillful  gentleman  I  stand  indebted 
for  the  privilege  of  again  appearing  in  the  company  of  my  fellow- 
men." 

They  bade  him  welcome  :  the  doctor  motioned  for  a  walk,  to  inter- 
rupt the  conversation,  and  lead  it  to  indifferent  topics. 

In  private  the  doctor  gave  the  following  explanation  :  "It  was  by 
the  strangest  chance  that  we  succeeded  in  the  cure  of  this  man.  We 
had  long  treated  him,  morally  and  physically,  as  our  best  considera- 
tion dictated  :  in  some  degree  the  plan  was  efficacious  :  but  the  fear 
of  death  continued  powerful  in  him,  and  he  would  not  lay  aside  his 
beard  and  cloak.  For  the  rest,  however,  he  appeared  to  take  more 
interest  in  external  things  than  formerly  ;  and  both  his  songs  and  his 
conceptions  seemed  to  be  approaching  nearer  life.  A  strange  letter 
from  the  clergyman,  as  you  already  know,  called  me  from  you.  I 
arrived  :  I  found  our  patient  altogether  changed  :  he  had  voluntarily 
given  up  his  beard  ;  he  had  let  his  locks  be  cut  into  a  customary 
form  ;  he  asked  for  common  clothes  ;  he  seemed  to  have  at  once 
become  another  man.  Though  curious  to  penetrate  the  reason  of  this 
sudden  alteration,  we  did  not  risk  inquiring  of  himself  :  at  last  we 
accidentally  discovered  it.  A  glass  of  laudanum  was  missing  from  the 
parson's  private  laboratory  :  we  thought  it  right  to  institute  a  strict 
inquiry  on  the  subject :  every  one  endeavored  to  ward  off  suspicion  ; 
and  the  sharpest  quarrels  rose  among  the  inmates  of  the  house.  At 
last,  this  man  appeared  before  us,  and  admitted  that  he  had  the 
laudanum  :  we  asked  if  he  had  swallowed  any  of  it.  '  No  ! '  said  ie  : 
'  but  it  is  to  this  that  I  owe  the  recovery  of  my  reason.  It  is  at  your 
choice  to  take  the  vial  from  me  ;  and  to  drive  me  back  inevitably  to 
niy  former  state.  The  feeling  that  it  was  desirable  to  see  the  pains 
of  life  terminated  by  death,  first  put  me  on  the  way  of  cure  ;  before 
long  the  thought  of  terminating  them  by  voluntary  death  arose  in 
me  ;  and  with  this  intention,  I  took  the  glass  of  poison.  The  pos- 
sibility of  casting  off  my  load  of  griefs  forever  gave  me  strength  to 
bear  them  ;  and  thus  have  I,  ever  since  this'  talisman  came  into  vay 


433  MEISTEW 8  APPRENTICESHIP. 

possession,  pressed  myself  back  into  life,  by  a  contiguity  with  death. 
Be  not  anxious  lest  I  use  tlie  drug ;  but  resolve,  as  men  acquainted 
with  the  human  heart,  by  granting  me  an  independence  of  life,  to 
make  me  properly  and  wiiolesomely  dependent  on  it.'  After  mature 
consideration  of  the  matter,  we  determined  not  to  meddle  farther  with 
\\m\  :  and  he  now  carries  with  him,  in  a  firm  little  ground-glass  vial, 
this  poison,  of  which  he  has  so  strangely  made  an  antidote." 

The  doctor  was  informed  of  all  that  had  transpired  since  his 
departure  :  towards  Augustin  it  was  determined  that  they  should 
observ^e  the  deepest  silence  in  regard  to  it.  The  abb6  undertook  to 
keep  beside  him,  and  to  lead  him  forward  on  the  healthful  path  he 
had  entered. 

Meanwhile  Wilhelm  was  to  set  about  his  journey  over  Germany 
with  the  marchese.  If  it  should  appear  that  Augustin  could  be  again 
excited  to  affection  for  his  native  country,  the  circumstances  were  to 
be  communicated  to  his  friends,  and  Wilhelm  might  conduct  him 
thither. 

Wilhelm  at  last  made  every  preparation  for  his  journey.  At 
first  the  abbe  thought  it  strange  that  Augustin  rejoiced  in  hearing 
of  his  friend  and  benefactor's  purpose  to  depart  ;  but  he  soon  dis- 
covered the  foundation  of  this  curious  movement.  Augustin  could 
not  subdue  his  fear  of  Felix  :  and  he  longed  as  soon  as  possible  to  see 
the  boy  removed. 

By  degrees  so  many  people  had  assembled,  that  the  castle  and  ad- 
joining buildings  could  scarcely  accommodate  them  all  ;  and  the  less, 
as  such  a  miiltitude  of  guests  had  not  originally  been  anticipated. 
They  breakfasted,  they  dined  together  ;  each  endeavored  to  persuade 
himself  that  they  were  living  iu  a  comfortable  harmony,  but  each  in 
secret  longed  in  some  degree  to  be  away.  Theresa  frequently  rode 
out  attended  by  Lothario,  and  oftener  alone  ;  she  had  already  got 
acquainted  with  all  the  landladies  and  landlords  in  the  district  ;  for 
she  held  it  as  a  principle  of  her  economy,  in  which  perhaps  she  was 
not  far  mi.staken,  that  it  is  essential  to  be  in  good  acceptance  with 
one's  neighbors,  male  and  female,  and  to  maintain  with  them  a  con- 
stant interchange  of  civilities.  Of  an  intended  marriage  with  Lothario 
she  appeared  to  have  no  thought.  Natalia  and  the  countess  often 
talked  with  one  another  ;  the  abb6  seemed  to  covet  the  society  of 
Augustin  ;  Jarno  had  frequent  conversations  with  the  doctor  ;  Fried- 
rich  held  by  Wilhelm  ;  Felix  ran  about,  wherever  he  could  meet  with 
most  amusement.  It  was  thus  too  that  in  general  they  paired  them- 
selves in  walking,  when  the  company  broke  up  ;  when  it  was  obliged 
to  be  together,  recourse  was  quickly  had  to  music,  to  unite  them  all 
by  giving  each  back  to  himself. 

Unexpectedly  the  count  increased  the  party  ;  intending  to  remove 
his  lady,  and,  as  it  appeared,  to  take  a  solemn  farewell  of  his  worldly 
friends.  Jarno  hastened  to  the  coach  to  meet  him  :  the  count  in- 
quired what  guests  they  had  ;  to  which  the  other  answered,  in  a  fit  of 


BOOK  VIII.  CHAPTER  X.  433 

wild  humor  that  would  often  seize  him  :  "  We  have  all  the  nobility 
in  nature  ;  marcheses,  marquises,  milords  and  barons :  we  wanted 
nothing  but  a  count."  They  came  upstairs.  Wilhelm  was  the  first 
who  met  them  in  the  ante-chamber.  "  Milord,"  said  the  count  to  him 
in  French,  after  looking  at  him  for  a  moment,  "  I  rejoice  very  much 
in  the  unexpected  pleasure  of  renewing  my  acquaintance  with  your 
lordship  :  I  am  very  much  mistaken  if  I  did  not  see  you  at  my  castle 
in  the  prince's  suite."  "  I  had  the  happiness  of  waiting  on  your 
excellency  at  that  tune,"  answered  Wilhelm;  "but  you  do  me  too 
much  honor  when  you  take  me  for  an  Englishman,  and  that  of  the 

first  quality.    I. am  a  German,  and  " "  A  very  brave  young  fellow," 

interrupted  Jarno.  The  count  looked  at  Wilhelm  with  a  smile,  and 
was  about  to  make  some  reply,  when  the  rest  of  the  party  entered, 
and  saluted  him  with  many  a  friendly  welcome.  They  excused  them- 
selves for  being  unable  at  the  moment  to  show  him  to  a  proper  cham- 
ber ;  promising  without  delay  to  make  the  necessary  room  for  him. 

"  Ay,  ay,"  said  he,  smiling  :  "  we  have  left  chance,  I  see,  to  act  as 
our  purveyor.  Yet  with  prudence  and  arrangement,  how  much  is 
possible  !  For  the  present,  I  entreat  you  not  to  stir  a  slipper  from  its 
place  ;  the  disorder,  I  perceive,  would  otherwise  be  great.  Every  one 
would  be  uncomfortably  lodged  ;  and  this  no  one  shall  be  on  my 
account,  if  possible,  not  even  for  an  hour.  You  can  testify,"  said  he 
to  Jarno,  "and  you  too,  Meister,"  turning  to  Wilhelm,  "  how  many 
people  I  commodiously  stowed,  that  time,  in  my  castle.  Let  me  have 
the  list  of  persons  and  servants  ;  let  me  see  how  they  are  lodged  at 
present  ;  I  will  make  a  plan  of  dislocation,  such  that,  with  the  very 
smallest  inconvenience,  every  one  shall  find  a  suitable  apartment, 
and  there  shall  be  room  enough  to  hold  another  guest  if  one  should 
accidentally  arrive." 

Jarno  volunteered  to  be  the  count's  assistant  ;  procured  him  all  the 
neces.sary  information  ;  taking  great  delight,  as  usual,  if  he  could  now 
and  then  contrive  to  lead  him  astray,  and  leave  him  in  awkward  dif- 
ficulties. The  good  old  gentleman  at  last,  however,  gained  a  signal 
triumph.  The  arrangement  was  completed  ;  he  caused  the  names  to 
be  written  on  the  several  doors,  himself  attending  ;  and  it  could  not 
be  denied  that,  by  a  very  few  changes  and  substitutions,  the  object 
had  been  fully  gained.  Jarno,  among  other  things,  had  also  man- 
aged that  the  persons,  who  at  present  took  an  interest  in  each  other, 
should  be  lodged  together. 

"  Will  you  help  me,"  said  the  count  to  Jarno,  after  everything  was 
settled,  ' '  to  clear  up  my  recollection  of  the  young  man  there,  whom 
you  call  Meister,  and  who,  you  tell  me,  is  a  German  V  "  Jarno  was 
silent  ;  for  he  knew  very  well  that  the  count  was  one  of  those  people"] 
who,  in  asking  questions,  merely  wish  to  show  their  knowledge.  The  J 
count  accordingly  continued,  without  wailing  for  an  answer  :  "  You, 
I  recollect,  presented  him  to  me  ;  and  warmly  recommended  him  in 
the  prince's  name.     If  his  mother  was  a  German  woman,  I'll  be  bound 


434  MEISTEB'8  APPBENTICESHIP. 

for  it  his  father  is  an  Englisliinan,  and  one  of  rank  too  :  who  can  cal- 
culate the  English  blood  that  has  been  flowing,  these  last  thirty  years, 
in  German  veins  !  I  do  not  wish  to  pump  you  :  I  know  you  have 
always  family  secrets  of  that  kind  ;  but  in  such  cases  it  is  in  vain  to 
think  of  cheating  me."  He  then  proceeded  to  detail  a  great  variety 
of  things  as  having  taken  place  with  Willielm  at  the  castle  ;  to  the 
whole  of  which  Jarno,  as  before,  kept  silence  ;  though  the  count  was 
altogether  in  the  wrong,  confounding  Wilhelm  more  than  once  with 
a  young  Englishman  of  the  prince's  suit.  The  truth  was,  the  good 
old  gentleman  had  in  former  years  possessed  a  very  excellent  mem- 
ory ;  and  was  still  proud  of  being  able  to  remember  the  minutest  cir- 
cumstances of  his  youth  :  but  in  regard  to  late  occurrences,  he  used 
to  settle  in  his  mind  as  true,  and  utter  with  the  gi'eatest  certainty, 
whatever  fables  and  fantastic  combinations  in  the  growing  weakness 
of  his  powers,  imagination  might  present  to  him.  For  the  rest,  he 
was  become  extremely  mild  and  courteous  ;  his  presence  had  a  very 
favorable  influence  upon  the  company.  He  would  call  on  them  to 
read  some  useful  book  together ;  nay,  he  often  gave  them  little 
games,  which,  without  participating  in  them,  he  directed  with  the 
greatest  care.  If  they  wondered  at  his  condescension,  he  would  re- 
ply, that  it  became  a  man,  who  differed  from  the  world  in  weighty 
matters,  to  conform  to  it  the  more  anxiously  in  matters  of  indifference. 

In  these  games,  our  friend  had,  more  than  once,  an  angry  and  un- 
quiet feeling  to  endure.  Friedrich,  with  his  usual  levity,  took  fre- 
quent opportunity  of  giving  hints  that  Wilhelm  entertained  a  secret 
passion  for  Natalia.  How  could  he  have  found  it  out  ?  What 
entitled  him  to  say  so  ?  And  would  not  his  friends  think  that,  as 
they  two  were  often  together,  Wilhelm  must  have  made  a  disclosure 
to  him,  so  thoughtless  and  unlucky  a  disclosure  ? 

One  day,  while  they  were  merrier  than  common  at  some  such  joke, 
Augustin,  dashing  up  the  door,  rushed  in  with  a  frightful  look  ;  his 
countenance  was  pale,  his  eyes  were  wild  ;  he  seemed  about  to 
speak,  but  his  tongue  refused  its  office.  The  party  were  astounded  ; 
Lothario  and  Jarno,  supposing  that  his  madness  had  returned,  sprang 
up  and  seized  him.  With  a  choked  and  faltering  voice,  then  loudly 
and  violently,  he  spoke  and  cried  :  "  Not  nie  !  Haste  !  Help  !  Save 
the  child  !  Felix  is  poisoned  ! " 

They  let  him  go  ;  he  hastened  through  the  door  :  all  followed  him 
in  consternation.  They  called  the  doctor  :  Augustin  made  for  the 
abbe's  chamber  ;  they  found  the  child  ;  who  seemed  amazed  and 
frightened,  when  they  called  to  him  from  a  distance  :  "  What  hast 
thou  been  doing  ?  " 

"Dear  papa  !"  cried  Felix,  "I  did  not  drink  from  the  bottle,  I 
drank  from  the  glass  :  I  was  very  thirsty. " 

Augustin  struck  his  hands  together  :  "  He  is  lost  !  "  cried  he  ;  then 
pressed  through  the  bystanders,  and  hastened  awaj'. 

They  found  a  glass  of  almond-milk  upon  the  table,  with  a  bottle 


BOOK  VIIL  CHAPTER  X.  435 

near  it  more  tlian  half  empty.  The  doctor  came  ;  was  told  what 
they  had  seen  and  heard  :  with  horror  he  observed  the  well-known 
laudanum-vial  lying  empty  on  the  table.  He  called  for  vinegar,  he 
summoned  all  his  art  to  his  assistance. 

Natalia  had  the  little  patient  taken  to  a  room,  she  busied  herself 
with  painful  care  about  him.  The  abbe  bad  run  out  to  seek  Augus- 
tin,  and  draw  some  explanation  from  him.  The  unliappy  father  had 
been  out  upon  the  same  endeavor,  but  in  vain  :  he  returned  to  find  anx- 
iety and  fear  on  every  face.  The  doctor,  in  the  meantime,  had  been 
examining  the  almond-milk  in  the  glass  ;  he  found  it  to  contain  a 
powerful  mixture  of  opium  :  the  child  was  lying  on  the  sofa,  seeming 
very  sick  ;  he  begged  bis  father  "  not  to  let  them  pour  more  stuff 
into  him,  not  to  let  them  plague  him  any  more."  Lothario  had  sent 
his  people,  and  had  ridden  off  himself,  endeavoring  to  find  some 
trace  of  Augustin.  Natalia  sat  beside  the  child  ;  he  took  refuge  in 
her  bosom,  and  entreated  earnestly  for  her  protection  ;  earnestly  for 
a  little  piece  of  sugar  :  the  vinegar,  he  said,  was  biting  sour.  The 
doctor  granted  his  request  ;  the  child  was  in  a  frightful  agitation ; 
they  were  obliged  to  let  him  have  a  moment's  rest.  The  doctor  said 
that  every  means  had  been  adopted  ;  he  would  continue  to  do  his 
utmost.  The  count  came  near,  with  an  air  of  displeasure  :  his  look 
was  earnest,  even  solemn  :  he  laid  his  hands  upon  the  child  ;  turned 
his  eyes  to  heaveij,  and  remained  some  moments  in  that  attitude. 
Wilhelm,  who  was  lying  inconsolable  on  a  seat,  sprang  up,  and  cast- 
ing a  despairing  look  at  Natalia,  left  the  room.  Shortly  afterwards 
the  count  too  left  it. 

"  I  cannot  understand,"  said  the  doctor,  having  paused  a  little, 
"  how  it  comes  that  there  is  not  the  smallest  trace  of  danger  visible 
about  the  child.  At  a  single  gulp,  he  must  have  swallowed  an  im- 
mense dose  of  opium  ;  yet  I  find  no  movement  in  his  pulse  but  what 
may  be  ascribed  to  our  remedies,  and  to  the  terror  we  have  put  him 
into." 

In  a  few  minutes  Jarno  entered,  with  intelligence  that  Angustin 
had  been  discovered  in  the  upper  story,  lying  in  his  blood  ;  a  razor 
had  been  found  beside  him  ;  to  all  appearance  he  had  cut  his  throat 
The  doctor  hastened  out :  he  met  the  people  carrying  down  the  body. 
The  unhappy  man  was  laid  upon  a  bed,  and  accurately  examined  : 
the  cut  had  gone  across  the  windpipe  ;  copious  loss  of  blood  had 
been  succeeded  by  a  swoon  ;  yet  it  was  easy  to  observe  that  life,  that 
hope  was  still  there.  The  doctor  put  the  body  in  a  proper  posture  •, 
joined  the  edges  of  the  wound,  and  bandaged  it.  The  night  passed 
sleepless  and  full  of  care  to  all.  Felix  would  not  quit  Natalia  : 
Wilhelm  sat  before  her  on  a  stool  ;  he  had  the  boy's  feet  upon  his 
lap  ;  the  head  and  breast  were  lying  upon  hers.  Thus  did  they 
divide  the  pleasing  burden  and  the  painful  anxiety  ;  and  continue, 
till  the  day  broke,  in  their  uncomfortable  sad  position.  Natalia  had 
given   her  hand   to  Wilhelm  ;    they   did   not  speak  a  word  ;  they 


486  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

looked  at  the  child  and  then  at  one  another.  Lothario  and  Jarno 
were  sitting  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  and  carrying  on  a  most 
important  conversation  ;  •which,  did  not  the  pressure  of  events  forbid 
us,  we  would  gladly  lay  before  our  readers.  The  boy  slept  softly  ; 
he  awoke  quite  cheerful,  early  in  the  morning,  and  demanded  a  piece 
of  bread  and  butter. 

So  soon  as  Augustin  had  in  some  degree  recovered,  they  endeavored 
to  obtain  some  explanation  froni  him.  They  learned  with  difficulty, 
and  by  slow  degrees,  that  having,  by  the  count's  unlucky  shifting, 
been  appointed  to  the  same  chamber  with  the  abbe,  he  had  found  the 
manuscript  in  which  his  story  was  recorded.  Struck  with  horror  on 
perusing  it,  he  felt  that  it  was  now  impossible  for  him  to  live  ;  on 
which  he  had  recourse  as  usual  to  the  laudanum  ;  this  he  poured  into 
a  glass  of  almond-milk,  and  raised  it  to  his  mouth  ;  but  he  shuddered 
when  it  reached  his  lips  ;  he  set  it  down  untasted  ;  went  out  to  walk 
once  more  across  the  garden,  and  behold  the  face  of  nature  ;  and  on 
his  return,  he  found  the  child  employed  in  filling  up  the  glass  out  of 
which  it  had  been  drinking. 

They  entreated  the  unhappy  creature  to  be  calm  ;  he  seized  Wil- 
helm  by  the  hand  with  a  spasmodic  grasp  and  cried  :  "  Ah  !  why  did 
I  not  leave  thee  long  ago  ?  I  knew  well  that  I  should  kill  the  boy, 
and  he  irre."  "  The  boy  lives  !  "  said  Wilhelm.  The  doctor,  who  had 
listened  with  attention,  now  inquired  of  Augustin  if  all  the  drink  was 
poisoned.  "No,"  replied  he,  "nothing  but  the  glass."  "By  the 
luckiest  chance,  then,"  cried  the  doctor,  "  the  boy  has  drunk  from 
the  bottle  !  A  benignant  genius  has  guided  his  hand,  that  he  did  not 
catch  at  death,  which  stood  so  near  and  ready  for  him."  "  No  !  no  !" 
cried  Wilhelm  with  a  groan,  and  clapping  both  his  hands  upon  his 
eyes  :  "  How  dreadful  are  the  words  !  Felix  said  expressly  that  he 
drank  not  from  the  bottle  but  the  glass.  His  health  is  but  a  show  ; 
he  will  die  among  our  hands."  Wilhelm  hastened  out ;  the  doctor 
went  below,  and  taking  Felix  up,  with  much  caressing,  asked  :  "  Now 
did  not  you,  my  pretty  boy  ?  You  drank  from  the  bottle,  not  the 
glass  ?  "  The  child  began  to  cry.  The  doctor  secretly  informed 
Natalia  how  the  matter  stood  ;  she  also  strove  in  vain  to  get  the  truth 
from  Felix,  who  but  cried  the  more  ;  cried  till  he  fell  asleep. 

Wilhelm  watched  by  him  ;  the  night  went  peacefully  away.  Next 
morning  Augustin  was  found  lying  dead  in  bed  ;  he  had  cheated  his 
attendants  by  a  seeming  rest  ;  he  had  silently  loosened  the  bandages, 
and  bled  to  death.  Natalia  went  to  walk  with  Felix  :  he  was  sport- 
ful as  in  his  happiest  days.  "  You  are  always  good  to  me,"  said 
Felix;  "you  never  scold,  you  never  beat  me  ;  I  will  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  did  drink  from  the  bottle.  Mamma  Aurelia  used  to  rap  me 
over  the  fingers  every  time  I  touched  the  bottle  :  father  looked  so 
sour,  I  thought  he  would  beat  me." 

With  winged  steps  Natalia  hastened  to  the  castle  ;  Wilhelm  came, 
still  overwhelmed  \vith  care,  to  meet  her.     "  Happy  fatlier  !  "  cried 


BOOK  VIIL  CHAPTER.  X  43? 

she,  lifting  up  the  child,  and  throwing  it  into  his  arms  ;  "there  is 
thy  son  again  !  He  dranlc  from  the  bottle  ;  his  naughtiness  has  saved 
him." 

They  told  the  count  the  happy  issue  ;  but  he  listened  with  a  smil- 
ing, silent,  modest  air  of  knowingness,  lilie  one  tolerating  the  error 
of  worthy  men.  Jarno,  attentive  to  all,  could  not  explain  this  lofty 
self-complacency  ;  till  after  many  windings,  he  at  last  discovered  it 
to  be  his  lordship's  firm  belief  that  the  child  had  really  taken  poision, 
and  tliat  he  himself,  by  prayer  and  the  laying-on  of  hands,  had  mirac- 
ulously counteracted  the  effects  of  it.  After  such  a  feat,  his  lord- 
ship now  determined  on  departing.  Everything,  as  usual  with  him, 
was  made  ready  in  a  moment  ;  the  fair  countess,  when  about  to  go, 
took  Wilhelm's  hand  before  parting  with  her  sister's  ;  she  then 
pressed  both  their  hands  between  her  own,  turned  quickly  round,  and 
stepped  into  the  carriage. 

So  many  terrible  and  strange  events,  crowding  one  upon  the  back 
of  another,  inducing  an  unusual  mode  of  life,  and  putting  everything 
into  disorder  and  perplexity,  had  brought  a  sort  of  feverish  movement 
into  all  departments  of  the  house.  The  hours  of  sleep  and  waking, 
of  eating,  drinking  and  social  conversation  were  inverted.  Except 
Theresa,  none  of  them  had  kept  in  their  accustomed  course.  The 
men  endeavored,  by  increased  potations,  to  recover  their  good  humor  : 
and  thus  communicating  to  themselves  an  artificial  vivacity,  they 
drove  away  that  natural  vivacity,  which  alone  imparts  to  us  true 
cheerfulness  and  strength  for  action. 

Wilhehn,  in  particular,  was  moved  and  agitated  by  the  keenest 
feeliiYg's.  Those  unexpected,  frightful  incidents  had  thrown  him 
out  of  all  condition  to  resist  a  passion  which  had  so  forcibly  seized 
his  heart.  Felix  was  restored  to  him  ;  yet  still  it  seemed  that  he  liad 
nothing  :  Werner's  letters,  the  directions  for  his  journey  were  in 
readiness  ;  there  was  nothing  wanting  but  the  resolution  to  remove. 
Everything  conspired  to  hasten  him.  He  could  not  but  conjecture 
that  Lothario  and  Theresa  were  awaiting  his  departure,  that  they 
might  be  wedded.  Jarno  was  unusually  silent ;  you  would  have 
said  that  he  had  lost  a  portion  of  his  customary  cheerfulness.  Hap- 
pily the  doctor  helped  our  friend,  in  some  degree,  from  this  embar- 
rassment :  he  declared  him  sick,  and  set  about  administering  medicine 
to  him. 

The  company  assembled  always  in  the  evening  :  Friedrich,  the 
wild  madcap,  who  had  often  drunk  more  wine  than  suited  liini, 
in  general  took  possession  of  the  talk  ;  and  by  a  thousand  frolicsome 
citations,  fantasies  and  waggish  allusions,  often  kept  the  party 
laughing  ;  often  also  threw  them  into  awkward  diihculties,  by  the 
liberty  he  took  to  think  aloud. 

In  the  sickness  of  his  friend  he  seemed  to  have  little  faith.  Once 
when  they  were  all  together,  "  Pray,  doctor,"  cried  he,  "  how  is  it 
you  call  tile  malady  our  friend  is  laboring  under?     Will  none  of  the 


438  MEISTEit'S  APPRENTICESSIP. 

three  thousand  names,  with  which  you  decorate  your  ignorance, 
apply  to  it  ?  The  disease  at  least  is  not  without  examples.  There 
is  one  such  case,"  continued  he  with  an  emphatic  tone,  "in  the 
Egyptian  or  Babylonian  history." 

The  company  looked  at  one  another,  and  smiled. 

"  What  call  you  the  king — 1  "  cried  he,  and  stopped  short  a  mo- 
ment. "  Well,  if  you  will  not  help  me,  I  must  help  myself."  He 
threw  the  door-leaves  up,  and  pointed  to  the  large  picture  in  the 
ante-chamber.  "What  call  you  the  goat-beard  there,  with  the 
crown  on,  who  is  standing  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  making  such  a 
rueful  face  about  his  sick  son  ?  How  call  you  the  beauty,  who  enters, 
and  in  her  modest  roguish  eyes  at  once  brings  poison  and  antidote  ? 
How  call  you  the  quack  of  a  doctor,  who  at  this  moment  catches  a 
glimpse  of  the  reality,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  takes  occasion 
to  prescribe  a  reasonable  recipe,  to  give  a  drug  which  cures  to  the 
very  heart,  and  is  at  once  salutiferous  and  savory  ?  " 

In  this  manner  he  continued  babbling.  The  company  took  it  with 
as  good  a  face  as  might  be  ;  hiding  their  embarrassment  behind  a 
forced  laugh.  A  slight  blush  overspread  Natalia's  cheeks,  and  be- 
trayed the  movements  of  her  heart.  By  good  fortune,  she  was 
walking  up  and  down  with  Jarno  :  on  coming  to  the  door,  with  a 
cunning  motion  she  slipped  out,  walked  once  or  twice  across  the 
ante-chamber,  and  retired  to  her  room. 

The  company  were  silent :  Friedrich  began  to  dance  and  sing : 

O  ye  shall  wonders  see  ! 
What  has  been  is  not  to  be  ; 
What  is  said  is  not  to  say, 
Before  the  break  of  day 
Ye  shall  wonders  see  1 

Theresa  had  gone  out  to  find  Natalia  ;  Friedrich  pulled  the  doctor 
forward  to  the  picture  ;  pronounced  a  ridiculous  eulogium  on  medi- 
cine, and  glided  from  the  room. 

Lothario  had  been  standing  all  the  while  in  the  recess  of  a  window  ; 
he  was  looking,  without  motion,  down  into  the  garden.  Wilhelm 
was  in  the  most  dreadful  state.  Left  alone  with  his  friends,  he  still 
kept  silence  for  a  time  :  he  ran  with  a  hurried  glance  over  all  his 
history,  and  at  last  with  shuddering,  surveyed  his  present  situation  ; 
he  started  up  and  cried  :  "  If  I  am  to  blame  for  what  is  happening, 
for  what  you  and  I  are  suffering,  punish  me.  In  addition  to  my 
other  miseries,  deprive  me  of  your  friendship,  and  let  me  wander, 
without  comfort,  forth  into  the  wide  world,  in  which  I  should  have 
mingled,  and  withdrawn  myself  from  notice  long  ago.  But  if  you 
see  in  me  the  victim  of  a  cruel  entanglement  of  chance,  out  of  which 
I  could  not  thread  my  way,  then  give  me  the  assurance  of  your  love, 
of  your  friendship,  on  a  journey  which  I  dare  not  now  postpone.  A 
time  will  come,  when  I  may  tell  you  what  has  passed  of  late  within 
me.     Perhaps  this  is  but  a  punishment,  which  I  am  suffering,  be- 


BOOK  Vni.  CHAPTER  X.  439 

cause  I  did  not  soon  enough  disclose  myself  to  you,  because  I  hesi- 
tated to  display  myself  entirely  as  I  was  :  you  would  have  assisted 
me,  you  would  have  helped  me  out  in  proper  season.  Again  and 
again  have  my  eyes  been  opened  to  my  conduct  ;  but  it  was  ever  too 
late,  it  was  ever  in  vain  !  How  richly  do  I  merit  Jarno's  censure  !  1 
imagined  I  had  seized  it  ;  how  firmly  did  I  purpose  to  employ  it,  to 
commence  another  life !  Could  1,  might  I  have  done  so  ?  It  avails 
not  for  mortals  to  complain  of  fate  or  of  themselves  !  We  are 
wretched,  and  appointed  for  wretchedness  ;  and  what  does  it  matter 
whether  blame  of  ours,  higher  influence  or  chance,  virtue  or  vice, 
wisdom  or  folly  plunge  us  into  ruin  ?  Farewell  !  I  will  not  stay  an- 
other moment  in  a  house,  where  I  have  so  fearfully  violated  the 
rights  of  hospitality.  Your  brother's  indiscretion  is  unpardonable  ; 
it  aggravates  my  suffering  to  the  highest  pitch,  it  drives  me  to  des- 
pair. " 

"  And  what,"  replied  Lothario,  taking  Wilhelm  by  the  hand,  "  what 
if  your  alliance  with  my  sister  were  the  secret  article  on  which  de- 
pended my  alliance  with  Theresa  ?  This  amends  that  noble  maiden 
has  appointed  for  you  ;  she  has  vowed  that  these  two  pairs  should 
appear  together  at  the  altar.  '  His  reason  has  made  choice  of  me,' 
said  she  ;  '  his  heart  demands  Natalia  :  my  reason  shall  assist  his 
heart. '  We  agreed  to  keep  our  eyes  upon  Natalia  and  yourself  ;  we 
told  the  abb^"  of  our  plan,  who  made  us  promise  not  to  intermeddle 
with  this  union,  or  attempt  to  forward  it,  but  to  sufEer  everything  to 
take  its  course.  We  have  done  so,  nature  has  performed  her  part  ;  our 
mad  brother  only  shook  the  ripe  fruit  from  the  branch.  And  now,  since 
we  have  come  together  so  unusually,  let  us  lead  no  common  life,  let  us 
work  together  in  a  noble  manner,  and  for  noble  purposes  !  It  is  incon- 
ceivable how  much  a  man  of  true  culture  can  accomplish  for  himself 
and  others,  if,  without  attempting  to  rule,  he  can  be  the  guardian  over 
many  ;  can  induce  them  to  do  that  in  season,  which  they  are  at  &\\y  rate 
disposed  enough  to  do  ;  can  guide  them  to  their  objects,  which  in  gen- 
eral they  see  with  due  distinctness,  though  they  miss  the  road  to 
them.  Let  us  make  a  league  for  this  :  it  is  no  enthusiasm  ;  but  an 
idea  which  may  be  fully  executed,  which  indeed  is  often  executed, 
only  with  imperfect  consciousness,  by  people  of  benevolence  and 
woi-th.  Natalia  is  a  living  instance  of  it.  No  other  need  attempt  to 
rival  the  plan  of  conduct  which  has  been  perscribed  by  nature  for 
that  pure  and  noble  soul." 

He  had  more  to  say,  but  Friedrich  with  a  shout  came  jumping  in. 
"  What  a  garland  have  I  earned  !  "  cried  he  :  "how  will  you  reward 
me  ?  Myrtle,  laurel,  ivy,  leaves  of  oak,  the  freshest  you  can  find, 
come  twist  them  :  I  have  merits  far  beyond  them  all.  Natalia  is 
thine  !  I  am  the  conjurer  who  raised  this  treasure  for  thee." 

"  He  raves,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "  I  must  go." 

"  Art  thou  empowered  to  speak  ?"  inquired  Lothario,  holding  Wil- 
helm from  retiring 


440  MEISTER  'S  APPRENTICE8EIP. 

'•' By  my  own  authority,"  said  Friedricli,  "and  the  grace  of  God. 
It  was  thus  I  was  the  wooer ;  thus  I  am  the  messenger :  I  listened  at 
the  door  ;  she  told  the  abb6  everything." 

"  Barefaced  rogue  !  who  bade  thee  listen  ?"  cried  Lothario. 

"  Who  bade  her  bolt  the  door?  "  cried  Freidrich.  "  I  heard  it  all : 
she  was  in  a  wondrous  pucker.  In  the  night  when  Felix  seemed  so 
ill,  and  was  lying  half  upon  her  knees,  and  thou  wert  sitting  com- 
fortless before  her,  sharing  the  beloved  load,  she  made  a  vow,  that  if 
the  child  died,  she  would  confess  her  love  to  thee,  and  offer  thee  her 
hand.  And  now  when  the  child  lives,  why  should  she  change  her 
mind  ?  What  we  promise  under  such  conditions,  we  keep  under  any. 
Nothing  wanting  but  the  parson  !  He  will  come,  and  marvel  what 
strange  news  he  brings." 

The  abbe  entered.  "  We  know  it  all,"  cried  Friedrich  :  "be  as 
brief  as  possible  ;  it  is  mere  formality  you  come  for  ;  they  never  send 
for  you  or  me  on  any  other  score. " 

"  He  has  listened,"  said  the  baron. — "  Scandalous  ! "  exclaimed  the 
abb6. 

"Now,  quick  ! "  said  Friedrich.  "How  stands  it  with  the  cere- 
monies ?  These  we  can  reckon  on  our  fingers.  You  must  travel  ;  the 
marchese's  invitation  answers  to  a  hairsbreadth.  If  we  had  you  once 
beyond  the  Alps,  it  will  be  all  right  :  the  people  are  obliged  to  you 
for  undertaking  anything  surprising  ;  you  procure  them  an  amuse- 
ment which  they  are  not  called  to  pay  for.  It  is  as  if  you  gave  a  free 
ball  ;  all  ranks  partake  in  it." 

"  In  such  popular  festivities,"  replied  the  abb6,  "  you  have  done 
the  public  much  service  in  your  time  ;  but  to-day,  it  seems,  you  will 
not  let  me  speak  at  all." 

"  If  it  is  not  just  as  I  have  told  it,"  answered  Friedrich,  "  let  us  have 
it  better.    Come  round,  come  round  ;  we  must  see  them  both  together." 

Lothario  embraced  his  friend,  and  led  him  to  Natalia,  who  with 
Theresa  came  to  meet  them.     All  were  silent. 

"No  loitering  !  "  cried  Friedrich.  "  In  two  days  you  may  be  ready 
for  your  travels.  Now,  think  you,  friend,"  continued  he,  addressing 
Wilhelm,  "when  we  first  scraped  acquaintance,  and  I  asked  you 
for  the  pretty  nosegay,  who  could  have  supposed  you  were  ever  to 
receive  a  flower  like  this  from  me? " 

"Do  not,  at  the  moment  of  my  highest  happiness,  remind  me  of 
those  times  !  " 

"  Of  which  you  need  not  be  ashamed,  any  more  than  one  need  be 
ashamed  of  his  descent.  The  times  were  very  good  times  :  only  I 
cannot  but  laugh  to  look  at  thee  :  to  my  mind,  thou  resemblest  Saul 
the  son  of  Kish,  who  went  out  to  seek  his  father's  asses,  and  found 
a  kingdom." 

"  I  know  not  the  worth  of  a  kingdom,"  answered  Wilhelm  ;  "  but 
T  know  I  have  attained  a  happiness  which  I  have  not  deserved,  and 
which  I  would  not  change  with  anything  in  life," 


WILHELM  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS; 

OK, 

THE  RE^UjSTOIAI^TS. 

A  NOVEL. 


To  travel  now  th'  Apprentice  does  essay, 

And  every  step  is  girt  with  doubt  and  danger  : 

In  truth  he  uses  not  to  sing  or  pray  ; 

But,  is  his  path  perplex'd.  this  toilsome  ranger 

Does  turn  an  earnest  eye  when  mist's  above  him. 
To  bis  own  heart,  and  to  the  hearts  that  love  him. 


Scarce  could  tell  you  rightly 

Whether  I'm  the  same  or  not ; 
If  you  task  me  very  tightly  : 

Yes,  this  is  my  sense  you've  got ; 
Sense  that  vexes,  then  assuages. 

Now  too  light,  and  now  too  dark. 
But  in  some  few  hundred  pages 

May  again  come  to  the  mark. 


,'  Does  fortune  try  thee  ?    She  had  cause  to  do't ; 
She  wish'd  thee  abstinent :  obey,  be  mute  ! 


What  shap'st  thou  here  at  the  world  !  'tis  shapen  long*ago  : 

The  Maker  shap'd  it.  he  thought  it  best  even  »o : 

Thy  lot  is  appointed,  go  follow  its  best  ; 

Thy  course  is  begun,  thou  must  walk,  and  not  rest  ; 

For  sorrow  and  care  cannot  alter  thy  case  ;  i 

And  running,  not  raging,  will  win  thee  the  race. 


Enweri  tells  us,  a  most  royal  man, 

The  deepest  heart  and  highest  head  to  scan  : 

"  In  every  place,  at  every  time,  thy  surest  chance 

Lies  in  Decision,  Justice,  Tolerance." 

My  inheritance,  how  wide  and  fair  ! 
Time  is  my  estate  !  to  Time  I'm  heir. 


Now  it  is  Day  ;  be  doing  every  one  ! 

For  the  Night  cometh,  wherem  work  can  none. 


And  80  I,  in  tale  adjoining, 

Lift  old  treasures  into  day  ; 
If  not  gold  or  perfect  coining, 

Thej'  are  metals  anyway  : 
Thou  canst  sort  them,  thou  canst  sunder. 

Thou  canst  melt  and  make  them  one 
Then  take  that  with  smiling  wonder, 

Stamp  it  like  thyself,  my  son. 


WILHELM   MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  FLIGHT   INTO  EGYPT. 

WiLHELM  was  sitting  under  tlie  shadow  of  a  liuge  crag,  on  a  shaggy- 
impressive  spot,  where  the  steep  mountain -path  turned  abruptly  round 
a  corner  down  into  the  chasm.  The  sun  was  still  high,  and  brighten- 
ing the  tops  of  the  pine-trees  in  the  clefts  at  his  feet.  He  was  looking 
at  something  in  his  note-book,  when  Felix,  who  had  been  clambering 
about,  came  to  him  with  a  stone  in  his  hand.  "  What  is  the  name  of 
this  stone,  father?"  said  the  boy. 

"  I  know  not,"  answered  Wilhelm. 

"  Can  this  be  gold  that  glitters  in  it  so  1"  said  Felix. 

"  No,  no,"  replied  Wilhelm  ;  "  and  now  I  remember,  people  call  it 
mica,  or  cat-gold." 

"  Cat-gold  !"  said  the  boy  smiling  ;  "  and  why?" 

"  I  suppose,  because  it  is  false,  and  cats  are  reckoned  false  too." 

"  Well,  I  will  note  that,"  said  the  son,  and  put  in  the  stone  beside 
the  rest,  with  which  he  had  already  filled  his  pockets. 

Scarcely  was  this  over,  when,  adown  the  steep  path,  a  strange 
enough  appearance  came  in  sight.  Two  boys,  beautiful  as  day, — in 
colored  jackets,  which  you  might  have  taken  for  outer  shirts, — came 
bounding  down  one  after  the  other  ;  and  Wilhelm  had  opportunity  of 
viewing  them  more  closely,  as  they  faltered,  on  observing  him,  and 
stopped  for  a  moment.  Round  the  elder  boy's  head  waved  rich  fair 
locks,  which  you  looked  at  first,  on  observing  him  ;  and  then  his 
clear  blue  eyes  attracted  your  attention,  which  spread  itself  with  de- 
light over  his  beautiful  shape.  The  younger,  more  like  a  friend  than 
a  brother,  was  decked  with  brown  sleek  hair  ;  which  hung  down 
over  his  shoulders,  and  the  reflection  of  which  appeared  to  be  imaged 
in  his  eyes. 

These  strange,  and  in  this  wilderness  quite  unexpected  beings, 
Wilhelm  had  not  time  to  view  more  narrowly,  ibr  he  heard  a  man's 
voice  calling  down  round  the  corner  of  the  crag,  in  a  serious  but 
friendly  tone : 


446  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

"  Why  do  you  stand  still  ?     Don't  stop  tlie  way  ! " 

Willielin  looked  upwards  ;  and  if  the  children  had  surprised  him, 
what  he  now  saw  filled  him  with  astonishment.  A  stout,  firmset, 
not  too  tall  young  man,  tucked  up  for  walking,  of  brown  complexion 
and  black  hair,  was  stepping  firmly  and  carefully  down  the  rock- 
way  ;  and  leading  an  ass  behind  him,  which  first  presented  its  glossy 
weil-trimmed  head,  and  then  the  fair  burden  it  bore.  A  soft  lovely 
woman  was  seated  on  a  large  and  well-paneled  saddle  :  in  her  arms, 
within  a  blue  mantle  which  hung  over  her,  lay  an  infant,  which 
she  was  pressing  to  her  breast,  and  looking  at  with  indescribable 
tenderness.  The  man  did  as  the  children  had  done  ;  faltered  for  a 
moment  at  sight  of  Willi  elm.  The  beast  slackened  its  step,  but  the 
descent  was  too  precipitous  ;  the  travelers  could  not  halt ;  and  Wij- 
helm  with  astonishment  saw  them  vanish  behind  the  contiguous  wall 
of  rocks. 

Nothing  was  more  natural  than  that  this  singular  procession  should 
cut  short  his  meditations.  He  rose  in  no  small  curiosity,  and  looked 
from  his  position  towards  the  chasm,  to  see  wliether  they  would  not 
again  make  their  appearance  somewhere  below.  He  was  just  about 
descending  to  salute  these  strange  travelers  when  Felix  came  climbing 
up,  and  said  :  "  Father,  may  I  not  go  home  with  these  boys  to  their 
house  ?  They  want  to  take  me  with  them.  Thou  must  go  too,  the 
man  said  to  me.     Come  !     They  are  waiting  down  there  !  " 

"  I  will  speak  v.ith  them,"  answered  Willi  elm. 

He  found  them  at  a  place  where  the  path  was  more  level  ;  and  he 
could  not  but  gaze  in  wonder  at  the  singular  figures  which  had  so 
strongly  attracted  his  attention.  Not  till  now  had  it  been  in  his 
power  to  note  the  peculiarities  of  the  group.  The  young  stout 
man,  he  found,  had  a  joiner's  axe  on  his  shoulder,  and  a  long  thin 
iron  square.  The  children  bore  in  their  hands  large  sedge-tufts,  like 
palms  ;  and  if  in  this  point  they  resembled  angels,  they  likewise 
carried  little  baskets  with  shop- wares  in  them,  thereby  resembling  the 
little  daily  posts,  as  they  pass  to  and  fro  over  the  mountains.  The 
mother  also,  he  observed,  on  looking  more  leisurely,  wore  under  her 
mantle  a  reddish  mill-colored  lower  garment  ;  so  that  "The  Flight 
into  Egypt,"  which  our  friend  had  so  often  seen  painted,  he  now  with 
amazement  saw  bodied  forth  before  his  eyes. 

The  strangers  exchanged  sa;lutations  ;  and  as  Wilhelm,  from  sur- 
prise and  attention,  could  not  speak,  the  young  man  said  :  "Our 
children  have  formed  a  friendship  in  these  feAV  moments.  Will  you 
go  with  ns,  to  see  wlietlier  some  kind  relation  will  not  spring  up  be- 
tween tlie  elder  parties  also  ?  " 

Wilhelm  bethought  himself  an  instant,  and  then  answered  :  "The 
aspect  of  your  little  family  procession  awakens  trust  and  good- will ; 
and  to  confess  it  frankly,  curiosity  no  less,  and  a  lively  desire  to  be 
better  acquainted  with  you.  For  at  the  first  glance,  one  might  ask 
himself  the  question  ;  Whether  you  are  real  travelers,  or  only  spirits 


CHAPTER  I.  447 

tliat  take  pleasure  in  enlivening  these  uninhabitable  mountains  by 
pleasant  visions  ?  " 

"  Then  come  home  with  us  to  our  dwelling,"  said  the  other.  "  Come 
with  us  ! "  cried  the  children,  already  drawing  Felix  along  with  them. 
"Come  with  us  ! "  said  the  woman,  turning  her  soft  kindliness  from 
the  suckling  to  the  stranger. 

Without  reflecting,  Wilhelm  answered  :  "I  am  sorry  that  for  the 
present  moment  I  cannot  follow  you.  This  night,  at  least,  I  must 
spend  up  at  the  Border-house.  My  portmanteau,  my  papers,  all  are 
lying  up  there  unpacked,  intrusted  to  no  one.  But  that  I  may  prove 
my  wish  and  purpose  to  satisfy  your  friendly  invitation,  take  my 
Felix  with  you  as  a  pledge.  To-morrow  I  shall  see  you.  How  far 
is  it  ?  " 

"  We  shall  be  home  before  sunset,"  said  the  carpenter  ;  "and  from 
the  Border-house  you  are  but  a  league  and  a  half.  Your  boy  increases 
our  household  for  this  night,  and  to-morrow  we  expect  you." 

The  man  and  the  animal  set  forth.  Wilhelm  smiled  thoughtfully 
to  see  his  Felix  so  soon  received  among  the  angels.  The  boy  had 
already  seized  a  sedge-tuft,  and  taken  the  basket  from  the  younger  of 
his  companions.  The  procession  was  again  on  the  point  of  vanishing 
behind  a  ledge  of  rock,  when  Wilhelm  recollected  himself,  and  cried  : 
"  But  how  shall  I  inquire  you  out  ?  " 

' '  Ask  for  St.  Joseph  !  "  sounded  from  the  hollow  ;  and  the  whole 
vision  had  sunk  behind  the  blue  shady  wall  of  cliffs.  A  pious  hymn, 
uplifted  on  a  chorus  of  several  voices,  rose  echoing  from  the  distance  ; 
and  Wilhelm  thought  he  could  distinguish  the  voice  of  his  Felix 
among  the  rest. 

He  ascended  the  path,  and  thus  protracted  the  period  of  sunset. 
The  heavenly  star,  which  he  had  more  than  once  lost  sight  of,  illumi- 
nated him  afresh  as  he  mounted  higher,  and  it  was  still  day  when  he 
reached  his  inn.  Once  more  he  delighted  himself  with  the  vast 
mountain  prospect ;  then  withdrew  to  his  chamber,  where  immedi- 
ately he  §eized  his  pen,  and  passed  a  part  of  the  night  in  writing 

WILHELM  TO    NATALIA. 

Now  at  last  I  have  reached  the  summit,  the  summit  of  the  moun- 
tains, which  will  place  a  stronger  separation  betn-ixt  us  than  all  the 
tract  I  had  passed  over  before.  To  my  feeling,  one  is  still  in  the 
neighborhood  of  those  he  loves,  so  long  as  the  streams  run  down  from 
him  towards  them.  To-day  I  can  still  fancy  to  myself  that  the  twig 
which  I  cast  into  the  forest-brook,  may  perhaps  float  down  to  her, 
may  in  a  few  days  land  at  her  garden  ;  and  thus  our  spirit  sends  its 
images  mor«  easily,  our  heart  its  sympathies,  by  the  same  downward 
course.  But  over  on  the  other  side,  I  fear,  there  rises  a  wall  of  divis- 
ion against  the  imagination  and  the  feelings.  Yet  this  perhaps  is  but 
a  vain  anxiety  ;  for  over  on  the  other  side,  after  all,  it  will  not  be 
otherwise  than  it  is  here.     What  could  \>s.n  me  from  thee  !     From 


448  MEISTEB* 8  TRAVELS. 

thee,  whose  own  I  am  forever,  tliough  a  strange  destiny  sunders  me 
from  thee,  and  unexpectedly  shuts  the  heaven  to  which  I  stood  so 
near.  I  had  time  to  compose  myself  ;  and  yet  no  time  could  have 
sufficed  to  give  me  that  composure,  had  I  not  gained  it  from  thy 
mouth,  from  thy  lips,  in  that  decisive  moment.  How  could  I  have 
torn  myself  away,  if  the  enduring  thread  had  not  been  spun,  which 
is  to  unite  us  for  time  and  eternity  ?  Yet  I  must  not  speak  of  all  this. 
Thy  tender  commands  I  will  not  break :  on  this  mountain  top,  be  it 
the  last  time  that  I  name  the  word  separation  before  thee  !  My  life 
is  to  become  a  restless  wandering.  Strange  duties  of  the  wanderer 
have  I  to  fulfill,  and  peculiar  trials  to  undergo.  How  I  often  smile 
within  myself,  when  I  read  the  terms  which  thou  prescribedst  to  me, 
which  I  prescribed  to  myself.  Many  of  them  have  been  kept,  many 
broken  ;  but  even  while  breaking  them,  that  sheet  is  of  no  use  to  me, 
that  te.stimonial  of  my  last  confession,  of  my  last  absolution  :  it 
speaks  to  me  as  an  authoritative  conscience,  and  I  again  turn  to  the 
right  path.  I  watch  myself  ;  and  my  faults  no  longer  rush  like  moun- 
tain torrents,  one  over  the  other. 

Yet  I  will  confess  to  thee,  I  many  times  wonder  at  those  teachers 
and  guides  of  men,  who  impose  on  their  scholars  nothing  but  exter- 
nal mechanical  duties.  They  make  the  task,  for  themselves  and  the 
world,  a  light  one.  For  this  very  part  of  my  obligations,  which  at 
first  seemed  the  heaviest,  the  strangest,  I  now  observe  with  greatest 
ease,  with  greatest  satisfaction. 

I  am  not  to  stay  beyond  three  days  under  one  roof.  I  am  to  quit 
no  inn  without  removing  at  least  one  league  from  it.  These  regula- 
tions are  in  truth  calculated  to  make  my  life  a  life  of  travel,  and  to 
prevent  the  smallest  thought  of  settlement  from  taking  hold  of  me. 
Hitherto  I  have  fulfilled  this  condition  to  the  letter  ;  not  even  using 
all  the  liberty  it  grants  me.  This  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  paused  : 
here,  for  the  first  time,  I  sleep  three  nights  in  the  same  bed.  From 
this  spot  I  send  thee  much  that  I  have  heard,  observed,  laid  up  for 
thee  :  and  early  in  the  morning,  I  descend  on  the  other  side  ;  in  the 
first  place,  to  a  strange  family,  I  might  "also  say,  a  holy'family,  of 
which,  in  my  journal,  thou  wilt  find  farther  notice.  For  the  present, 
farewell  ;  and  lay  down  this  sheet  Avith  the  feeling  that  it  has  but 
one  thing  to  say,  but  one  thing  which  it  would  say  and  repeat  forever  ; 
yet  will  not  say  it,  will  not  repeat  it  now,  till  I  have  once  more  the 
happiness  of  lying  at  thy  feet,  and  wee])ing  over  thy  hands  for  all 
that  I  renounce. 

Morning. 

My  packing  is  done.  The  porter  is  girding  the  portmateau  on  his 
dorsal.  As  yet  the  sun  is  not  up  ;  vapors  are  steaming  out  of  all  the 
hollows,  but  the  upper  sky  is  clear.  We  step  down  into  tlie  gloomy 
deeps,  which  also  will  soon  brighten  over  our  heads.  Let  me  send 
my  last  sigh  home  to  thee  !  Let  my  last  look  towards  thee  be  yet 
blinded  with  involuntarv  tears  !    I  am  decided  and  determined.    Thou 


CHAPTER  it.  449 

shalt  hear  nc  more  complaints  from  me  :  tliou  slialt  hear  only  what 
happens  to  the  wanderer.  And  yet  now,  when  I*iim  on  the  point  of 
ending,  a  thousand  thoughts,  wishes,  hopes  and  purposes  come  crowd- 
ing through  my  soul.  Happily  the  people  force  me  away.  The  por- 
ter calls  me  ;  and  mine  host  has  already  in  my  presence  begun  sorting 
the  apartment,  as  if  I  were  gone  :  thus  feelingless,  imprudent  heirs 
do  not  hide,  from  the  departing  testator,  their  preparations  for  assum- 
ing management. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ST.  JOSEPH   THE   SECOND. 

Already  had  the  wanderer,  following  his  porter  on  foot,  left  the 
steep  rocks  behind  and  above  him  ;  already  were  they  traversing  a 
softer  mid-range  of  hills  ;  and  hastening  through  many  a  well-pruned 
wood,  over  many  a  friendly  meadow,  forward  and  forward  ;  till  at 
last  they  found  themselves  on  a  declivity,  and  looked  down  into  a 
beautifully  cultivated  valley,  begirt  on  all  sides  with  hills.  A  large 
monastic  edifice,  half  in  ruins,  half  in  repair,  immediately  attracted 
their  attention.  "This  is  St.  Joseph,"  said  the  porter.  "Pity  for 
the  fine  church  !  Do  but  look  how  fresh  and  firm  it  still  holds  up  its 
pillars  through  bush  and  tree,  though  it  has  lain  many  hundred  years 
in  decay." 

"  The  cloister,  on  the  contrary,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  I  observe,  is  kept 
in  good  state." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  "there  is  a  schaffner  lives  here  ;  he  man- 
ages the  husbandry,  collects  the  dues  and  tithes,  which  the  people 
far  and  wide  have  to  pay  him." 

So  speaking,  they  had  entered  through  the  open  gate  into  a  spa- 
cious court,  surrounded  with  earnest-looking,  well-kept  buildings,  and 
announcing  itself  as  the  residence  of  some  peaceful  community. 
Among  the  children  playing  in  the  area,  Wilhelm  noticed  Felix  ;  the 
other  two  were  the  angels  of  last  night.  The  friendly  trefoil  came 
running  towards  him,  with  salutations  and  assurances  that  papa 
would  soon  be  back.  He,  in  the  meanwhile,  they  said,  must  go  into 
the  hall,  and  rest  himself. 

How  surprised  was  Wilhelm  when  the  children  led  him  into  this 
apartment  which  they  named  the  hall.  Passing  directly  from  the 
court,  through  a  large  door,  our  wanderer  found  himself  in  a  very 
cleanly,  undecayed  chapel,  which,  however,  as  he  saw  well  enough, 
had  been  fitted  up  for  the  domestic  uses  of  daily  life.  On  the  one 
side  stood  a  table,  a  settle,  some  chairs,  and  benches  ;  on  the  other 
side  a  neatly-carved  dresser,  with  variegated  pottery,  jugs  and 
glasses.  Some  chests  and  trunks  were  standing  in  suitable  niches  ; 
Meister— 15 


450  MEISTER'8  TRAVELS. 

and,  simple  as  the  whole  appeared,  there  was  not  wa'jting  an  air  of 
comfort ;  and  dailj*household  life  looked  forth  from  it  with  an  aspect 
of  invitation.  The  light  fell  in  from  high  windows  on  the  side.  But 
what  most  roused  the  attention  of  the  wanderer,  was  a  series  of  col- 
ored figures  painted  on  the  wall,  stretching  under  the  windows,  at  a 
considerable  height,  round  three-quarters  of  the  chapel  ;  and  hang- 
ing down  to  tlie  wainscot,  which  covered  the  remainder  of  the 
wall  to  the  ground.  The  pictures  represented  the  history  of  St. 
Josepli.  Here  you  might  see  him  first  employed  with  his  carpentry 
work  ;  here  he  meets  5Jary,  and  a  lily  is  sprouting  from  the  ground 
between  them,  while  angels  hover  round  observing  them.  Here  his 
betrothing  takes  place  ;  next  comes  the  salutation  of  the  angel.  Here 
he  is  sitting,  disconsolate  among  his  neglected  worlc  :  he  has  laid  by 
the  axe,  and  is  thuikiug  to  put  away  his  wife.  But  now  appears  the 
angel  to  him  in  a  dream,  and  his  situation  changes.  With  reverence 
he  looks  on  the  new-lwrn  Child  in  the  stable  at  Bethlehem,  and  prays 
to  it.  Soon  after  this  comes  a  wonderfully  beautiful  picture.  You 
observe  a  quantity  of  timber  lying  dressed  ;  it  is  just  to  be  put 
together,  and  by  chance  two  of  the  pieces  form  a  cross.  The  Child  has 
fallen  asleep  on  the  cross  ;  his  mother  sits  by,  and  looks  at  him  with 
heartfelt  love  ;  and  the  foster-father  pauses  with  his  labor,  that  he 
may  not  awaken  him.  Next  follows  the  flight  into  Egypt  ;  it  called 
forth  a  smile  from  the  gazing  traveler,  for  lie  saw  here  on  the  walls  a 
repetition  of  the  living  figures  he  had  met  last  night. 

He  had  not  long  pursued  his  contemplations,  when  the  landlord 
entered  ;  whom  he  directly  recognized  as  the  leader  of  the  holy 
caravan.  They  saluted  each  other  cordially  ;  much  conversation  fol- 
lowed, yet  Wilhelm's  chief  attention  continued  fixed  on  the  pictures. 
The  host  observed  the  feeling  of  his  guest,  and  began  with  a  smile  : 
"  No  doubt  you  are  Avondering  at  the  strange  accordance  of  this  build- 
ing with  its  inhabitants,  whom  you  got  acquainted  with  last  night. 
Yet  it  is  perhaps  still  more  singular  than  you  suppose  :  the  building 
has  in  truth  formed  the  inhabitants.  For  when  the  inanimate  has 
life,  it  can  also  produce  what  has  life." 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  "  answered  Wilhelm.  "  I  should  be  surprised  if  the 
spirit,  which  worked  so  powerfully  in  this  mountain  solitude  long  cen- 
turies ago,  and  drew  round  it  such  a  mighty  body  of  edifices,  posses- 
sions and  rights,  diffusing  in  return  the  blessings  of  manifold  culture 
over  the  region,  could  not  still,  out  of  these  ruins,  manifest  the  force 
of  its  life  on  some  living  being.  But  let  us  not  linger  on  general 
reflections  :  make  me  acquainted  with  your  history  ;  let  me  know  how 
it  can  possibly  have  happened,  that  without  affectation  and  presump- 
tion, the  past  again  represents  itself  to  you,  and  what  was,  again  is." 

Just  as  Wilhelm  was  expecting  responsive  information  from  the  lips 
of  his  host,  a  friendly  voice  in  the  court  cried  :  '  Joseph  !  "  The  man 
obeyed  it,  and  went  out. 

"  So  he  too  is  Joseph  ! "  said  Wilhelm  to  himself.     "  This  is  strange 


CHAPTER  II.  451 

enough  ;  and  yet  not  so  strange  as  that,  in  his  life,  he  should  person- 
ate his  saint."  At  the  same  time  looking  through  the  door,  he  saw 
the  Virgin  Mother  of  last  night,  speaking  with  her  husband.  They 
parted  at  last ;  the  woman  walking  towards  the  opposite  building. 
"  Mary,"  cried  he  after  her,  "a  word  more." 

"  So  she  too  is  Mary  !  "  said  Wilhelm  inwardly.  "  Little  would 
make  me  feel  as  if  I  were  transported  eighteen  hundred  years  into 
the  past  !  "  He  thought  of  the  solemn  and  secluded  valley  in  which 
he  was,  of  the  wrecks  and  silence  all  round  ;  and  a  strange  antiquarian 
mood  came  over  him.  It  was  time  for  the  landlord  and  children  to 
come  in.  The  latter  called  for  Wilhelm  to  go  and  walk,  as  the  land- 
lord had  still  some  business  to  do.  And  now  came  in  view  the  ruins 
of  the  church,  with  its  many  shafts  and  columns,  with  its  high  peaks 
and  walls  ;  which  looked  as  if  gathering  strength  in  the  influence  of 
wind  and  weather  ;  for  strong  trees  from  of  old  had  taken  root  in  the 
broad  backs  of  the  walls,  and  now  in  company  with  grass,  flowers 
and  moss  in  great  quantities,  exhibited  bold  hanging  gardens  vege- 
tating in  the  air.  Soft  sward-paths  led  you  up  the  banks  of  a  lively 
brook  ;  and  from  a  little  elevation  our  wanderer  could  now  overlook 
the  edifice  and  its  site  with  more  interest,  as  its  occupants  had  become 
still  more  singular  in  his  eyes,  and  by  their  harmony  with  their  abode 
had  awakened  his  liveliest  curiosity. 

The  promenaders  returned  ;  and  found  in  the  religious  hall  a  table 
standing  covered.  At  the  upper  end  was  an  arm-chair,  in  which  the 
mistress  of  the  house  took  her  seat.  Beside  her  she  had  placed  a 
high  wicker  cradle,  in  which  lay  the  little  infant  ;  the  father  sat  next 
this  on  her  left  hand,  Wilhelm  on  her  right.  The  three  children 
occupied  the  under  space  of  the  table.  An  old  serving-maid  brought 
in  a  well-readied  meal.  Eating  and  drinking  implements  alike 
pointed  to  the  past.  The  children  afforded  matter  for  talk,  while 
Wilhelm  could  not  satisfy  himself  with  looking  at  the  form  and  the 
bearing  of  his  saintly  hostess. 

Their  repast  over,  the  company  separated.  The  landlord  took  his 
guest  to  a  shady  spot  in  the  ruin,  where,  from  an  elevated  station,  the 
pleasant  prospect  down  the  valley  lay  entire  before  them  ;  and  farther 
off,  the  heights  of  the  lower  country,  with  their  fruitful  declivities 
and  woody  backs,  were  seen  protruding  one  behind  the  other.  "  Itis 
fair,"  said  the  landlord,  "  that  I  satisfy  your  curiosity  ;  and  the 
rather,  as  I  feel  that  you  can  view  the  strange  with  seriousness,  when 
you  find  it  resting  on  a  serious  ground.  This  religious  foundation, 
the  remains  of  which  are  lying  round  us,  was  dedicated  to  the  holy 
family,  and  in  old  times  noted  as  a  place  of  pilgrimage  for  many 
wonders  done  in  it.  The  church  was  consecrated  to  the  Mother  and 
the  Son.  It  has  lain  for  several  centuries  in  ruins.  The  chapel, 
dedicated  to  the  holy  foster-father,  still  remains,  as  does  likewise  the 
serviceable  part  of  the  cloister.  The  revenues  have  for  many  years 
belonged  to  a  temporal  prince,  who  keeps  a  steward  or  schaffner  here  ; 


452  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

this  schaffner  am  I,  son  of  the  last  schaffner,  who  also  succeeded  his 
father  in  the  office. 

"St.  Joseph,  though  any  regular  worship  of  him  has  long  ceased 
here,  had  been  so  helpful  to  our  family,  that  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at,  if  they  felt  particularly  well  inclined  towards  him  :  hence  came  it 
that  they  had  me  baptized  by  the  name  of  Joseph,  and  thereby,  I  may 
say,  in  some  sense  determined  my  whole  future  way  of  life.  I  grew 
up  ;  and  if  I  used  to  help  my  father  in  managing  the  dues,  I  attached 
myself  as  gladly,  nay,  still  more  gladly,  to  my  mother,  who  cheerfully 
distributed  her  bounty  according  to  her  fortune,  and  for  her  kindness 
and  good  deeds  was  known  and  loved  over  all  the  mountains.  Ere 
long  she  would  send  me  out,  now  this  way,  now  that  :  now  to  fetch, 
now  to  carry,  now  direct  ;  and  I  very  speedily  began  to  be  at  home  in 
this  sort  of  pious  occupation. 

"  In  general,  our  mountain  life  has  something  more  humane  in  it 
than  the  life  of  lowlanders.  The  inhabitants  here  are  nearer,  and,  if 
you  will,  more  remote  also.  Our  wants  are  smaller,  but  more  press- 
ing. Each  man  is  placed  more  on  his  own  footing  ;  he  must  learn 
to  depend  on  his  own  hands,  on  his  own  limbs.  The  laborer,  the 
poet,  the  porter,  all  unite  in  one  person  ;  each  of  us  is  more  con- 
nected with  the  other,  meets  him  oftener,  and  lives  with  him  in  joint 
activity. 

"As'  I  was  still  young,  and  my  shoulders  could  not  bear  heavy 
burdens,  I  fell  upon  a  thought  of  furnishing  a  little  ass  with  panniers, 
which  I  might  drive  before  me  up  and  down  the  steep  footpaths.  In 
the  mountains  the  ass  is  no  such  despicable  animal  as  in  the  plain 
country,  where  the  laborer  that  plows  with  horses  reckons  himself 
better  than  he  that  turns  his  furrow  with  oxen.  And  I  walked  behind 
my  beast  with  the  less  hesitation,  as  I  had  before  observed  in  the 
chapel  that  an  animal  of  this  same  sort  had  been  promoted  to  such 
honor  as  to  carry  God  and  his  Mother.  This  chapel  was  not  then, 
hov.  ever,  in  the  state  you  now  see  it  in.  It  had  been  treated  as  a 
cart-house,  nay.  almost  as  a  stable.  Firewood,  stakes,  implements, 
barrels  and  ladders,  everything  that  came  to  hand,  lay  huddled  to- 
gether in  it.  Lucky  that  the  pictures  were  so  high,  and  the  wainscot 
could  stand  some  hardships.  But  even  in  my  childhood,  I  used  many 
a  time  to  clamber  over  the  wood,  and  delight  myself  with  looking  at 
the  pictures,  which  no  one  could  properly  explain  to  me.  However, 
I  knew  at  least  that  the  saint  whose  life  stood  depicted  on  these  walls 
was  my  patron  ;  and  I  rejoiced  in  him  as  much  as  if  he  had  been  my 
uncle.  I  waxed  in  stature  ;  and  it  being  an  express  condition,  that 
whoever  meant  to  aspire  after  this  post  of  schaifner  must  practice 
some  handicraft,  our  family,  desiring  that  I  might  inherit  so  good 
a  benefice,  determined  on  putting  me  to  learn  some  trade  ;  and  such 
a  one,  at  the  same  time  as  might  be  useful  here  in  our  upland  way 
of  life. 

' '  My  father  was  a  cooper,  and  had  been  accustomed  to  supply  of  hira- 


CHAPTER  11.  4oa 

self  whatever  was  required  in  that  sort  ;  from  which  there  arose  no 
little  profit,  both  to  himself  and  the  country.  But  I  could  not  prevail 
on  myself  to  follow  him  in  this  business.  My  inclination  drew  me 
irresistibly  to  the  joiner  trade  ;  the  tools  and  materials  of  which  I 
had  seen,  from  infancy  upwards,  so  accurately  and  circumstantially 
painted  beside  my  patron  saint.  I  signified  my  wish  :  nothing  could 
be  objected  to  it  ;  the  less,  as  in  our  frequent  buildings,  the  carpenter 
is  often  wanted  here  ;  nay,  if  he  have  any  sleight  in  his  trade  and 
fondness  for  it,  especially  in  forest  districts,  the  arts  of  the  cabinet- 
maker, and  even  of  the  carver,  lie  close  beside  his  province.  And 
what  still  further  confirmed  me  in  my  higher  purposes  was  a  picture, 
which  now,  alas,  is  almost  effaced.  If  once  you  know  what  it  is  meant 
to  represent,  you  may  still  be  able  to  decipher  the  figures,  when  I 
take  you  to  look  at  it.  St.  Joseph  had  got  no  lower  a  commission  than 
to  make  a  throne  for  King  Herod.  The  royal  seat  was  to  be  erected 
between  two  given  pillars.  Joseph  carefully  measures  the  breadth 
and  height,  and  fashions  a  costly  throne.  But  how  astonished  is  he, 
how  alarmed,  on  carrying  his  finished  work  to  the  place  ;  the  throne 
is  too  high,  and  not  broad  enough.  King  Herod,  as  we  know,  was  a 
man  that  did  not  understand  jesting  :  the  pious  wriglit  is  in  the  great- 
est perplexity.  The  divine  Child,  accustomed  to  if)llow  him  every- 
where, and  in  childlike  humble  sport  to  cai'ry  his  tools  after  him,  ob- 
serves his  strait,  and  is  immediately  at  hand  with  advice  and  assist- 
ance. He  requires  of  his  foster-father  to  take  hold  of  the  throne  by 
the  one  side,  he  himself  grasps  it  by  the  other,  and  both  begin  to  pull. 
Easily  and  pliantly,  as  if  it  had  been  made  of  leather,  the  carved 
throne  extends  in  breadth,  contracts  proportionately  in  length,  and 
fits  itself  to  the  place  with  the  nicest  accuracy,  to  the  great  comfort 
of  the  reassured  master,  and  the  perfect  .satisfaction  of  the  king. 

"  This  throne  was,  in  my  youth,  quite  distinctly  visible  ;  and  by 
the  remains  of  the  one  side  you  will  still  be  able  to  discern,  that  there 
was  no  want  of  carving  on  it ;  which  indeed  must  have  been  easier 
for  the  painter,  than  it  would  have  been  for  the  carpenter,  had  such  a 
thing  been  required  of  him. 

"That  circumstance,  however,  raised  no  scruples  in  me;  but  I 
looked  on  the  handicraft,  to  which  I  had  devoted  myself,  in  so  honor- 
able a  light,  that  I  was  all  impatience  to  be  apprenticed  to  it  ;  a  long 
ing  which  was  the  easier  to  fulfill,  as  a  master  of  the  trade  lived  in 
our  neighborhood,  who  worked  for  the  whole  district,  and  kept  sev- 
eral apprentices  and  journeymen  about  him.  Thus  I  continued  in  the 
neighlDorhood  of  my  parents,  and  to  a  certain  extent  pursued  my 
former  way  of  life  also  ;  seeing  I  employed  my  leisure  hours  and  holi- 
days in  doing  those  charitable  messages  which  my  mother  still  in- 
trusted to  me, 


454  MEISTEB  '8  TBA  VEL8. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  VISIT. 

"  So  passed  several  years,"  continued  the  narrator.  "  I  very  soon 
comprehended  the  principles  of  my  trade  ;  and  my  frame,  expanded 
by  labor,  was  equal  to  the  undertaking  of  everything  connected  with 
the  business.  At  the  same  time,  I  kept  managing  my  ancient  service, 
which  my  good  mother,  or  rather  the  sick  and  destitute,  required 
at  my  hands.  I  moved  with  my  beast  through  the  mountains  ;  punc- 
tually distributed  my  lading,  and  brought  back  from  shopkeepers  and 
merchants  what  we  needed  here  at  home. 

"My  master  was  contented  with  me,  my  parents  also.  Already  I 
enjoyed  the  satisfaction,  in  my  wanderings,  of  seeing  many  a  house 
which  I  had  helped  to  raise,  or  had  myself  decorated.  For,  in  par- 
ticular, that  last  notching  of  tlie  beam-ends,  that  carving  of  certain 
simple  forms,  that  branding-in  of  pretty  figures,  that  red-painting  of 
certain  recesses,  b^  which  a  wooden  house  in  the  mountains  acquires 
so  pleasant  an  aspect  ;  these  arts  were  specially  intrusted  to  me,  as  I 
always  made  the  best  hand  of  such  tasks,  having  Herod's  throne  and 
its  ornaments  constantly  in  my  head. 

"  Among  the  help-needing  persons,  whom  my  mother  took  pecu- 
liar charge  of,  were  particularly  young  wives  near  the  time  of  their 
confinement  ;  as  by  degrees  I  could  well  enough  remark,  though  in 
such  cases  the  commissions  given  me  were  veiled  in  a  certain  mys- 
tery. My  messages,  on  these  occasions,  never  reached  directly  to  the 
party  concerned  ;  but  everything  passed  through  the  hands  of  a  good 
old  Avoman,  who  lived  down  the  dale,  and  was  called  Fran  Elizabeth. 
My  mother,  herself  skillful  in  the  art  which  saves  life  to  so  many  at 
their  very  entrance  into  life,  constantly  maintained  a  good  under- 
standing with  Frau  Elizabeth  ;  and  I  often  heard,  in  all  quarters,  that 
many  a  one  of  our  stout  mountaineers  stood  indebted  for  his  existence 
to  these  two  women.  The  secrecy  with  which  Elizabeth  received  me 
at  all  times  ;  her  pointed  replies  to  my  enigmatical  questions,  which 
I  myself  did  not  understand,  awoke  in  me  a  singular  reverence  for 
her  ;  and  her  house,  Avhich  was  extremely  clean,  appeared  to  me  to 
represent  a  sort  of  sanctuary. 

"  Meanwhile,  by  my  acquirements  and  adroitness  in  my  craft,  I 
had  gained  considerable  influence  in  tlie  family.  As  my  father,  in 
the  character  of  cooper,  had  taken  charge  of  the  cellar  and  its  con- 
tents, I  now  took  charge  of  roof  and  room,  and  repaired  many  a  dam- 
aged part  of  the  old  building.  In  particular,  1  contrived  to  mako 
some  fallen  barns  and  outhouses  once  more  serviceable  for  domestic 
use  ;  and  scarcely  was  this  done,  when  I  set  about  cleaning  and  clear- 


CHAPTER  H.  455 

ing  out  my  beloved  chapel.  In  a  few  days,  it  was  put  in  order, 
almost  as  you  see  it  at  present  ;  and  such  pieces  of  the  wainscot  as 
were  damaged,  or  altogether  wanting,  I  had  endeavored,  as  I  went 
along,  to  restore  in  the  same  fashion  as  the  rest.  These  door-leaves 
of  the  entrance  too,  you  might'  think  were  old  enough  ;  yet  they  are 
of  my  workmanship.  I  passed  several  years  in  carving  them  at  leis- 
ure hours,  having  fir.st  mortised  the  body  of  them  firmly  together 
out  of  strong  oaken  planks.  Whatever  of  the  pictures  had  not  been 
effaced  or  injured  at  that  time,  has  since  continued  unimpaired  ;  and 
1  assisted  our  glazier  in  a  new  house  he  was  erecting,  under  the  con- 
dition of  his  putting  in  colored  windows  here. 

"  If  these  figures  and  thoughts  on  the  saint's  life  had  hitherto 
occupied  my  imagination,  the  whole  impressed  itself  on  me  with  much 
more  liveliness,  now  that  I  could  again  regard  the  place  as  a  sanctu- 
ary ;  could  linger  in  it,  and  muse  at  leisure  on  what  I  saw  or  con- 
jectured. There  lay  in  me  an  irresistible  desire  to  follow  in  the 
footsteps  of  this  saint  ;  and  as  a  similar  history  was  not  to  be  looked 
for  in  these  times,  I  determined  on  commencing  my  resemblance  from 
the  lowest  point  upwards  ;  as  indeed,  by  the  use  of  my  beast  of  bur- 
den, I  had  already  commenced  it  long  ago.  The  small  creature,  which 
I  had  hitherto  employed,  would  no  longer  content  me  ;  I  chose  for 
myself  a  far  more  stately  carrier,  and  got  a  large  stout  saddle,  which 
was  equally  adapted  for  riding  and  packing.  A  pair  of  new  baskets 
were  also  procured  ;  and  a  net  of  many-colored  knots,  flakes  and 
tufts,  intermixed  with  jingling  tags  of  metal,  decorated  the  neck  of 
my  long-eared  beast,  which  might  now  show  itself  beside  its  model 
on  the  wall.  No  one  thought  of  mocking  me,  when  I  passed  over 
the  mountains  in  this  equipment  ;  people  do  not  quarrel  with  benev- 
olence for  putting  on  a  strange  outside. 

"Meanwhile,  war,  or  rather  its  consequences,  had  approached  our 
district ;  for  dangerous  bands  of  vagabond  deserters  had  more  than 
once  collected,  and  here  and  there  practiced  much  violence  and  wanton 
mischief.  By  the  good  order  of  our  provincial  militia,  by  patroling 
and  prompt  watchfulness,  the  evil  was  very  soon  remedied  ;  but  we 
too  quickly  relapsed  into  our  former  carelessness,  and,  before  we 
thought  of  it,  new  disorders  broke  forth. 

"  For  a  long  time  all  had  been  quiet  in  our  neighborhood,  and  I  had 
traveled  peacefully  with  my  ass  along  the  accustomed  paths  ;  till  one 
day  passing  over  a  newly-sown  glade  of  the  forest,  I  observed  a 
female  form  sitting,  or  rather  lying,  at  the  edge  of  the  fence  ditch. 
She  seemed  to  be  asleep  or  in  a  swoon.  I  endeavored  to  recall  her  ; 
and  as  she  opened  her  eyes  and  sat  upright,  she  cried  with  eagerness  : 
'  Where  is  he  V  Did  you  see  him '? '  I  asked,  '  Whom  ? '  She  replied, 
'  My  husband  ! '  Considering  her  extremely  youthful  appearance,  I 
had  not  been  expecting  this  reply  ;  yet  I  continued,  so  much  the  more 
kindly,  to  assist  her,  and  assure  her  of  my  sympathy.  I  learned  that 
the  two  travelers  had  left  their  carriage,  the  road  being  so  heavy. 


456  MEISTER'8  TRAVELS. 

and  struck  into  a  footpath  to  make  a  sliorter  cut.  Hard  by,  they  had 
been  overtaken  by  armed  marauders  ;  her  husband  had  gone  off  jBght- 
ing  with  them  ;  slie,  not  able  to  follow  him  far,  had  sunk  on  this 
spot,  and  lain  there  she  knew  not  how  long.  She  pressingly  begged 
of  me  to  leave  her,  and  hasten  after  her  husband.  She  rose  to  her 
feet  ;  and  the  fairest,  loveliest  form  stood  before  me  ;  yet  I  could 
easily  observe  that  she  was  in  a  situation  in  which  she  might  soon 
require  the  help  of  my  mother  and  Frau  Elizabeth.  We  disputed  a 
while  ;  for  I  wished,  before  all,  to  bring  her  to  some  place  of  safety  ; 
she  wished,  in  the  first  place,  to  have  tidings  of  her  husband.  She 
would  not  leave  the  trace  of  him  ;  and  all  my  arguments  would,  per- 
haps, have, been  unavailing,  had  not  a  party  of  our  militia,  which  the 
tidings  of  fresh  misdeeds  had  again  called  out  into  service,  chanced 
to  pass  that  way  through  the  forest.  These  I  informed  of  the  mat- 
ter ;  with  them  the  necessary  arrangements  were  made,  the  place  of 
meeting  appointed,  and  so  the  business  settled  for  the  time.  With 
great  expedition  I  hid  my  panniers  in  a  neighboring  cave,  which  had 
often  served  me  before  as  a  repository  ;  I  adjusted  my  saddle  for  easy 
riding,  and  not  without  a  strange  emotion,  lifted  the  fair  burden  on 
my  willing  beast,  which  knowing  of  itself  what  path  to  choose,  left 
me  at  liberty  to  walk  by  her  side. 

"  You  can  figure  to  yourself,  without  my  describing  it  at  large,  in 
what  a  strange  mood  1  was.  What  I  Lad  long  been  seeking,  I  had 
now  found.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  dreaming,  and  then  again  as  if  I  were 
awakening  fi-om  a  dream.  That  heavenly  form,  which  I  saAv,  as  it 
were,  hovering  in  the  air,  and  bending  aside  from  the  green  branches, 
now  seemed  to  me  like  a  dream  which  had  risen  in  my  soul  through 
those  figures  in  the  chapel.  Soon  those  figures  themselves  seemed  to 
me  to  have  been  only  dreams,  which  were  here  issuing  in  a  fair  real- 
ity. -I  asked  her  many  things  ;  she  answered  me  softly  and  kindly, 
as  beseemed  a  dignified  distress.  She  often  desired  me,  when  we 
reached  any  open  height,  to  stop,  to  look  round,  to  listen.  She  desired 
me  with  such  grace,  with  such  a  deep,  wistful  look  from  under  her 
long,  black  eyelashes  that  I  could  not  but  do  whatever  lay  in  my 
power  ;  nay,  at  last  I  climbed  to  the  top  of  a  high,  solitary,  branchless 
pine.  Never  had  this  feat  of  my  handicraft  been  more  welcome 
to  me  ;  never  had  I  with  greater  joy  brought  down  ribbons  and  silks 
from  such  elevations  at  festivals  and  fairs.  But  for  this  time,  alas,  I 
came  back  without  booty  ;  above,  as  below,  I  could  hear  or  see  noth- 
ing. In  the  end,  she  herself  called  me  down,  and  beckoned  to  me 
earnestly  with  her  hand  ;  nay,  at  last,  as  in  gliding  down,  I  quitted 
my  hold  a  considerable  way  up,  and  dropped  on  the  ground,  she  gave 
a  scream,  and  a  sweet  kindliness  spread  over  her  face  as  she  saw  me 
before  her  unhurt. 

"Why  should  I  tell  you  in  detail  of  the  hundred  attentions  with 
which  I  strove  the  whole  way  to  be  ])lpasing,  to  divert  Jier  thoughts 
from  her  grief  V     Indeed,  lunv  coiiM  IV     For  it   is  the  very  quality  of 


CHAPTER  IV.  457 

true  attenfton,  that  at  the  moment  it  makes  a  nothing  all.  To  my 
feeling,  the  flowers  which  I  broke  for  her,  the  distant  scenes  which  I 
showed  her,  the  hills  the  woods  which  I  named  to  her,  were  so  many 
precious  treasures  which  I  was  giving  her  to  obtain  for  myself  a  place 
among  her  interests,  as  one  tries  to  do  by  presents. 

"  Already  she  had  gained  me  for  my  whole  life,  when  we  reached 
our  destination,  at  that  good  old  woman's  door,  and  I  saw  a  painful  sep- 
aration close  at  hand.  Once  more  I  ran  over  all  her  form,  and  as  my 
eyes  came  on  her  feet,  I  stooped  as  if  to  adjust  someting  in  my  girdle, 
and  kissed  the  daintiest  shoe  I  had  ever  seen,  yet  without  her  noticing 
me.  I  helped  her  doAvn,  sprang  up  the  steps,  and  called  in  at  the 
door  :  '  Frau  Elizabeth,  here  is  a  visitor  ! '  The  good  old  woman 
came  down  ;  and  I  looked  over  her  shoulders  towards  the  house,  as 
the  fair  being  mounted  the  steps,  with  graceful  sorrow,  and  inv'ard 
painful  self -consciousness  ;  till  she  gratefully  embraced  my  worthy 
old  woman,  and  accompanied  her  into  the  better  chamber.  They  shut 
the  door,  and  1  was  left  standing  outside  by  my  ass,  like  a  man  that 
has  delivered  a  loading  of  precious  wares,  and  is  again  as  poor  a  car- 
rier as  before. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  LILT-STALK. 


"  I  "WAS  still  lingering  in  my  departure,  for  I  knew  not  what  to  do 
if  I  were  gone,  when  Frau  Elizabeth  came  to  the  door,  and  desired 
me  to  send  my  mother  down  to  her  ;  and  then  to  go  about,  and,  if 
possible,  get  tidings  of  the  husband.  '  Mary  begs  you  very  mnch  to 
do  this,'  said  she.  '  Can  I  not  speak  with  her  again  myself '? '  replied 
I.  '  That  will  not  do,' said  Elizabeth  ;  and  we  parted.  In  a  short  time 
I  reached  our  dwelling  ;  my  mother  was  ready  that  same  night  to  go 
over,  and  be  helpful  to  the  young  stranger.  I  hastened  down  the 
country,  thinking  I  should  get  the  surest  intelligence  at  the  amtmann's. 
But  the  amtmann  himself  was  still  in  uncertainty  ;  and  as  I  was 
known  to  him,  he  invited  me  to  pass  the  night  there.  It  seemed  inter- 
minably long,  and  still  I  had  the  fair  form  before  my  eyes,  as  she  sat 
gently  swaying  in  the  saddle,  and  looking  down  to  me  so  sorrowful 
and  friendly.  Every  moment  I  hoped  for  news.  To  the  worthy 
husband  I  honestly  wished  life  and  safety,  and  yet  I  liked  so  well  to 
fancy  her  a  widow  !  The  ranging  troops  by  little  and  little  col- 
lected ;  and  after  many  variable  rumors,  the  certainty  at  last  came 
to  light,  that  the  carriage  was  saved,  but  the  hapless  traveler  dead  of 
his  wounds  in  a  neighboring  village.  I  learned  also,  that  according 
to  our  first  arrangement,  some  of  the  party  had  gone  to  communicate 
the  melancholy  tidings  to  Frau  Elizabeth  ;  consequently  I  had  noth- 


458  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

ing  more  to  do  there.  Yet  a  boundless  impatience,  an  immeasurable 
longing,  drove  me  over  wood  and  mountain  once  more  to  her  thres- 
hold. It  was  dark  ;  the  door  was  shut  ;  I  saw  light  in  the  room, 
I  saw  shadows  moving  on  the  curtains  ;  and  thus  1  sat  watching  on  a 
bench  opposite  the  house  ;  still  on  the  point  of  knocking,  and  still 
•withheld  by  many  considerations. 

"  But  why  should  I  go  ou  describing  to  you  what  is  in  itself  of  no 
interest  ?  In  short,  next  morning  too  the  house  was  shut  against  me. 
They  knew  the  heavy  tidings,  they  needed  me  no  farther  ;  they  sent 
me  to  my  father,  to  my  work  ;  they  would  not  answer  my  inquiries ; 
they  wanted  to  be  rid  of  me. 

"  For  eight  days  this  sort  of  treatment  had  continued,  when  at  last 
Frau  Elizabeth  called  me  in  :  '  Step  softly,  my  friend,'  said  she  ;  '  but 
enter  without  scruple.'  She  led  me  into  a  trim  apartment  ;  where, 
in  the  corner,  through  the  half-opened  curtains,  I  saw  my  fair  one 
dressed,  and  sitting  upright  in  the  bed.  Frau  Elizabeth  went  to- 
wards her  as  if  to  announce  me  ;  lifted  something  from  the  bed,  and 
brought  it  me  ;  wrapt  in  the  whitest  swathings,  the  prettiest  boy  ! 
Frau  Elizabeth  held  it  straight  betwixt  the  mother  and  me  ;  and  just 
then  the  lily-stalk  occurred  to  me,  which  in  the  picture  springs  from 
the  ground  between  Joseph  and  Mary,  as  witness  of  their  pure  rela- 
tion. From  that  moment,  I  was  certain  of  my  cause,  certain  of  my 
happiness.  I  could  approach  her  with  freedom,  speak  with  her,  bear 
her  heavenly  eye,  take  the  boy  on  my  arm,  and  imprint  a  warm  kiss 
on  his  brow. 

"  '  How  I  thank  you  for  your  love  to  that  orphan  child  ! '  said  the 
mother.  Unthinkingly,  and  briskly,  I  cried  :  '  It  is  no  orphan  any 
longer,  if  you  like  ! ' 

'•  Frau  Elizabeth,  more  prudent  than  I,  took  the  child  from  my 
hands,  and  got  me  put  away. 

"  To  this  hour,  when  I  chance  to  be  wandering  over  our  mountains 
and  forests,  the  remembrance  of  that  time  forms  my  happiest  enter- 
tainment. I  can  still  recall  the  slightest  particulars  ;  which,  how- 
ever, as  is  fit,  I  spare  you  at  present.  Weeks  passed  on  ;  Mary  was 
recovered  ;  I  could  see  her  oftener,  my  intercourse  with  her  was  a 
train  of  services  and, attentions.  Her  family  circumstances  allowed 
her  to  choose  a  residence  according  to  her  pleasure.  She  first  stayed 
with  Frau  Elizabeth  ;  then  she  paid  us  a  visit,  to  thank  my  mother 
and  me  for  so  many  and  such  friendly  helps.  She  liked  to  live  with 
us  ;  and  I  flattered  myself  that  it  was  partly  on  my  account.  What 
I  wished  to  tell  her,  however,  and  durst  not  utter,  came  to  words  in 
a  singular  and  pretty  wise,  when  I  took  her  into  the  chapel,  which  I 
had  then  fitted  up  as  a  habitual  apartment.  I  showed  her  the  pic- 
tures, and  explained  them  to  her  one  after  the  other  ;  and  so  doing, 
unfolded  the  duties  of  a  foster-father  in  so  vivid  and  cordial  a  manner, 
that  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes,  and  I  could  not  get  to  the  end  of 
my  picture  exhibition.     I  thought  myself  certain  of  her  affection, 


CHAPTER  IV.  459 

though  I  was  not  proud  enough  to  wish  so  soon  to  efface  the  memory 
of  her  husband.  The  law  imposes  on  widows  a  year  of  mourning  ; 
and,  in  truth,  such  an  epoch,  which  includes  in  it  the  change  of  all 
earthly  things,  is  necessary  for  a  feeling  heart,  to  alleviate  the  pain- 
ful impressions  of  a  great  loss.  We  see  the  flowers  fade  and  the 
leaves  fall  ;  but  we  likewise  see  fruits  ripen,  and  new  buds  shoot 
forth.  Life  belongs  to  the  living  ;  and  he  who  lives  must  be  pre- 
pared for  vicissitudes. 

"  I  now  spoke  with  my  mother  on  the  concern  which  lay  so  near 
my  heart.  She  thereupon  disclosed  to  ine  how  grievous  to  Mary  the 
death  of  her  husband  had  been,  and  how  she  had  borne  up  and 
gathered  courage  again,  solely  from  tlie  thought  that  she  must  live 
for  her  child.  My  inclination  was  not  unknown  to  the  women  ;  and 
already  Mary  had  accustomed  herself  to  the  idea  of  living  with  us. 
She  stayed  a  while  longer  in  the  neighborhood  ;  then  she  came  up 
to  us,  and  we  lived  for  a  time  in  the  gentlest  and  happiest  state  of 
betrothment.  At  last  we  wedded.  That  feeling,  which  had  first 
drawn  us  together,  did  not  fade  away.  The  duties  and  joys  of  the 
father  and  the  foster-father  were  united  ;  and  so  our  little  family, 
as  it  increased,  did  certainly  surpass  its  prototype  in  number  of  per- 
sons ;  but  the  virtues  of  that  pattern,  in  respect  to  faithfulness  and 
purity  of  sentiments,  were  sacredly  maintained  and  practiced  by  us. 
And  so  also  in  friendly  habitude  we  keep  up  the  external  appearance 
which  we,  by  accident,  arrived  at,  and  which  fits  our  internal  state 
so  well ;  for  though  all  of  ns  are  good  walkers,  and  stout  bearers  of 
weight,  the  beast  of  burden  still  remains  in  our  company,  when  any 
business  or  visit  takes  us  through  these  mountains  and  valleys.  As 
you  met  us  last  night,  so  does  the  whole  country  know  us  ;  and  we 
feel  proud  that  our  walk  and  conversation  are  of  such  a  sort  as  not 
to  throw  disgrace  on  the  saintly  name  and  figure,  whose  imitators  we 
profess  to  be." 

WILHELM   TO    NATALIA. 

I  now  conclude  a  pleasant  half -marvelous  history,  which  I  have 
just  written  down  for  thee,  from  the  mouth  of  a  very  worthy  man. 
If  I  have  not  always  given  his  very  words  ;  if  here  and  there,  in  de 
scribing  his  sentiments,  I  have  expressed  my  own,  this,  considering 
the  relationship  of  mind  I  feel  with  him,  was  natural  enough.  His 
reverence  for  his  wife,  does  it  not  resemble  that  which  I  entertain 
for  thee  ?  And  is  there  not,  even  in  the  first  meeting  of  these  lovers, 
something  similar  to  ours?  But  that  he  is  fortunate  enough  to  walk 
beside  his  animal,  as  it  bears  the  doubly-beautiful  burden  ;  that  he 
can  enter  at  evenings  with  his  family  possession  through  the  old 
cloister-gate  ;  that  he  is  inseparable  from  his  own  loved  ones  ;  in 
all  this  I  may  well  secretly  envy  him.  Yet  I  must  not  complain  of 
my  destiny,  seeing  I  have  promised  thee  that  I  will  suffer  and  be 
silent,  as  thou  also  hast  undertaken. 


460  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

Many  a  fair  feature  iu  the  domestic  union  of  these  devout  and 
cheerful  persons,  I  have  been  obliged  to  omit  ;  for  how  could  it  be 
depicted  in  writing  ?  Two  days  have  passed  over  me  agreeably  ;  but 
the  third  warns  me  to  be  mindful  of  my  farther  wayfaring. 

With  Felix  I  had  a  little  quarrel  to-day.  He  was  almost  for  com- 
pelling me  to  break  through  one  wholesome  regulation,  for  which  I 
stand  engaged  to  thee.  It  has  been  an  error,  a  misfortune,  in  short 
an  arrangement  of  fate  with  me  hitherto,  that  before  I  am  aware,  my 
company  increases  ;  that  I  take  a  new  burden  on  my  shoulders, 
which  thenceforth  I  have  to  bear,  and  drag  along  with  me.  So  in 
my  present  wanderings  no  third  party  is  to  become  a  permanent  asso- 
ciate with  us.  We  are,  we  will  and  must  continue  two  ;  and  just 
now  a  new,  and  not  very  pleasing  connection  seemed  about  to  be 
established. 

To  the  children  of  the  house  with  whom  Felix  has  gayly  passed 
these  days  in  sporting,  there  had  joined  himself  a  little  merry  beggar- 
boy,  who,  submitting  to  be  used  or  misused  as  the  play  required,  had 
very  soon  got  into  favor  with  Felix.  By  various  hints  and  expres- 
sions, I  now  gathered  that  the  latter  had  found  himself  a  playmate 
for  the  next  stage  of  our  journey.  The  boy  is  known  in  this  quarter, 
and  everywhere  tolerated  for  his  lively  humor  ;  and  now  and  then 
obtains  an  alms.  Me,  however,  he  did  not  please,  and  I  desired  our 
host  to  get  him  sent  away.  This  likewise  took  place  ;  but  Felix  was 
angry  at  it,  and  we  had  a  little  flaw  of  discord. 

In  the  course  of  this  affair,  I  discovered  something  which  was 
pleasant  to  me.  In  the  corner  of  the  chapel,  or  hall,  stood  a  box  of 
stones  ;  which  Felix,  who,  since  our  wandering  through  the  moun- 
tains, has  acquired  an  excessive  fondness  for  minerals,  eagerly  drew 
forth  and  examined.  Many  pretty  eye-catching  things  were  among 
them.  Our  landlord  said,  the  child  might  choose  out  what  he  liked  : 
these  were  the  remains  of  a  large  collection  which  a  friend  had  dis- 
patched thence  a  short  while  ago.  He  called  this  person  Montan  ;  and 
thou  wilt  easily  suppose  how  glad  I  was  to  hear  this  name,  under 
which  one  of  our  best  friends  is  traveling,  one  to  whom  we  owe  so 
-much.  Having  inquired  into  date  and  circumstances,  I  can  now  hope 
to  meet  him  ere  long  on  my  pilgrimage. 


CHAPTER  V. 


The  news  that  Montan  was  in  the  neighborhood  had  made  Wil- 
helm  reflect.  He  considered  that  it  ought  not  to  be  left  to  chance 
alone  wliether  he  should  meet  with  so  estimable  a  friend  ;  therefore 
he  inquired  of  his  landlord  if  they  did  not  know  towards  what  quarter 
this  traveler  had  turned  his  course.     No  one  had  any  information  on 


CHAPTER.   V.  461 

tliis  point  ;  and  Wilhelm  had  determined  to  pursue  liis  pilgrimage  on 
tlie  former  plan,  when  Felix  cried  :  "  If  father  were  not  so  strange, 
we  might  soon  find  Montan." 

"  What  way  ?"  said  Wilhelm. 

Felix  answered  :  "  Little  Fitz  told  us  last  night  that  he  could  trace 
out  the  stranger  gentleman,  who  had  many  fine  stones  with  him,  and 
understood  them  well." 

After  some  talking,  Wilhelm  at  last  resolved  on  making  the  experi- 
ment ;  purposing,  in  the  course  of  it,  to  keep  so  much  the  sharper 
watch  on  the  suspicious  boy.  Fitz  was  soon  found  ;  and,  hearing 
what  was  to  be  done,  he  soon  produced  mallet  and  chisel  and  a  stout 
hammer,  with  a  little  bag  ;  and  set  forth,  running  merrily  before  the 
party,  in  his  mining  accouterments. 

The  way  went  to  a  side,  and  up  the  mountains.  The  children 
skipped  on  together,  from  crag  to  crag,  over  stock  and  stone,  over 
brook  and  bourn  ;  and  without  having  any  path  before  him,  Fitz 
pressed  rapidly  upwards,  now  looking  to  the  right  hand,  now  to  the 
left.  As  Wilhelm,  and  especially  the  laden  porter,  could  not  follow 
so  fast,  the  boys  often  ran  back  and  forward,  singing  and  whistling. 
The  aspect  of  some  new  trees  arrested  the  attention  of  Felix  ;  who 
now  for  the  first  time  formed  acquaintance  with  larches  and  fir-cones, 
and  curiously  surveyed  the  strange  gentian  shrubs.  And  thus,  in 
their  toilsome  wandering,  there  lacked  not  from  time  to  time  a  little 
entertainment.  But  all  at  once  they  were  fronted  by  a  barricade  of 
trees,  which  a  storm  had  hurled  together  in  a  confused  mass.  ' '  This 
was  not  in  my  reckoning,"  said  Fitz.  "  Wait  here  till  I  find  my  way 
again  ;  only  have  a  care  of  the  cave  up  there  :  no  one  goes  into  it  or 
near  it,  without  getting  harm,  or  having  tricks  played  on  him." 

The  boy  went  off  in  an  ascending  direction  :  the  porter,  on  the 
other  hand,  grumbling  at  the  excessive  difficulty  of  the  way,  set 
down  his  luggage,  and  searched  sidewards  and  downwards  for  some 
beaten  path. 

No  sooner  did  Felix  see  himself  alone  with  his  father,  than  his 
curiosity  awoke,  and  he  glided  softly  towards  the  cave.  Wilhelm, 
who  gave  him  leave,  observed  after  some  time  that  the  child  was  no 
longer  in  sight.  He  himself  mounted  to  the  cave,  at  the  mouth  of 
which  he  had  last  seen  the  boy  ;  and,  on  entering,  he  found  the  place 
empty.  It  was  spacious,  but  could  be  taken  in  at  a  glance.  He 
searched  for  some  other  outlet,  and  found  none.  The  matter  began 
to  be  serious.  He  took  the  whistle,  which  he  wore  at  his  button- 
hole ;  an  answer  to  his  call  came  sounding  out  of  the  depth,  so  that 
he  was  uncertain  whether  he  should  take  it  for  an  echo  ;  when, 
shortly  afterwards,  Felix  peeped  out  of  the  ground  ;  for  the  chink 
through  which  he  looked  was  scarcely  wide  enough  to  let  through 
his  head. 

"  What  art  thou  about  there?"  cried  the  father. 

"  Hush  ! "  said  Felix  ;  "art  thou  alone  1" 


463  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

"Quite  alone,"  answered  Wilhelm. 

"  Then  go  quick,"  cried  the  boy,  "  and  fetch  me  a  couple  of  stroiig 
clubs." 

Wilhelm  went  to  the  fallen  timber,  and  with  his  hanger  cut  off  a 
pair  of  thick  staves  ;  Felix  took  them,  and  vanished,  having  first 
called  to  his  father  :  "  Let  no  one  into  the  cave  ! " 

After  some  time,  Felix  cried  :  "  Another  pair  of  staves,  and  larger 
ones!"  With  these  also  his  father  provided  him,  and  waited  anx- 
iously for  the  solution  of  his  riddle.  At  length  the  boy  issued  rap- 
idly from  the  cleft,  and  brought  a  little  box  with  him,  not  larger  than 
an  octavo  volume  ;  of  rich,  antique  appearance  ;  it  seemed  to  be  of 
gold,  decorated  with  enamel.  "  Put  it  up,  father,"  said  the  boy, 
"and  let  none  see  it!"  Wilhelm  had  not  time  to  ask  many  ques- 
tions ;  for  they  already  heard  the  call  of  the  returning  porter  ;  and 
scarcely  had  they  joined  him,  when  the  little  squire  also  began  to 
shout  and  wave  from  above. 

On  their  approach,  he  cried  out :  "  Montan  is  not  far  off ;  I  bet  we 
shall  soon  meet  him." 

"  How  canst  thou  know  this,"  said  W'ilhelm,  "  in  so  wild  a  forest, 
where  no  human  being  leaves  any  trace  behind  him  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  knack,"  said  Fitz  ;  and,  like  a  will-o'-wi.sp,  he  hopped 
off  hither  and  thither,  in  a  side  direction,  to  lead  his  masters  the 
strangest  road. 

Felix,  in  the  meanwhile,  highly  satisfied  in  the  treasure  he  had 
found,  highly  delighted  at  possessing  a  secret,  kept  close  by  his 
father,  without,  as  formerly,  skipping  up  and  down  beside  his  com- 
rade. He  nodded  to  Wilhelm  with  sparkling  eyes  ;  glancing  towards 
his  companion,  and  making  significant  faces,  to  indicate  how  much 
he  was  above  Fitz  now,  in  possessing  a  secret  entirely  wanting  to  the 
other.  He  carried  it  so  far  at  length,  that  Fitz,  who  often  stopped 
and  looked  about,  must  very  soon  have  noticed  it.  Wilhelm  there- 
fore said  to  Felix  :  "  My  son,  whoever  wishes  to  keep  a  secret,  must 
hide  from  us  that  he  possesses  one.  Self-complaisance  over  the  con- 
cealed destroys  its  concealment."  Felix  restrained  himself  ;  but  his 
former  gay  free  manner  to  his  comrade  he  could  pot  now  attain. 

All  at  once  little  Fitz  stood  still.  He  beckoned  the  rest  to  him  : 
"  Do  you  hear  a  beating?  "  said  he.  "It  is  the  sound  of  a  hammer 
striking  on  the  rock." 

"  We  hear  it,"  answered  they. 

"  That  is  Montan,"  said  he,  "  or  some  one  who  will  tell  us  of  him." 

Following  the  sound,  which  was  repeated  from  time  to  time,  they 
reached  an  opening  in  the  wood  ;  and  perceived  a  steep  high  naked 
rock,  towering  over  all  the  rest,  leaving  even  the  lofty  forest  deep  be- 
neath it.  On  the  top  of  it  they  descried  a  man  ;  he  was  too  far  off 
to  be  recognized.  Immediately  the  boys  set  about  ascending  the 
precipitous  path.  Wilhelm  followed  with  some  difficulty,  nay,  dan- 
ger ;  for  the  person  that  climbs  a  rock   foremost  always  proceeds 


CHAPTER  V.  463 

with  more  safety,  because  he  can  look  out  for  his  conveuieuces  ;  he 
who  comes  after  sees  only  whither  the  other  has  arrived,  but  not  how. 
The  boys  soon  reached  the  top  ;  and  Wilhelm  heard  a  shout  of  joy. 
"  It  is  Jarno,"  cried  Felix  to  his  father  ;  and  Jarno  immediately  came 
forward  to  a  rugged  spot  ;  stretched  out  his  hand  to  his  friend,  and 
drew  him  up.  They  embraced,  and  welcomed  each  other  into  the 
free  skyey  air,  with  the  rapture  of  old  friends. 

But  scarcely  had  they  stepped  asunder,  when  a  giddiness  came  over 
Wilhelm ;  not  so  much  on  his  own  account,  as  at  seeing  the  boys 
hanging  over  the  frightful  abyss.  Jarno  observed  it,  and  immedi- 
ately bade  all  sit  down.  "  Nothing  is  more  natural,"  said  he,  "  than 
that  we  should  grow  giddy  at  a  great  sight,  which  comes  unexpectedly 
before  us,  to  make  us  feel  at  once  our  littleness  and  our  greatness. 
But  there  is  not  in  the  world  any  truer  enjoyment,  than  at  the  mo- 
ment when  we  are  so  made  giddy  for  the  first  time." 

"Are  these,  then,  down  there,  the  great  mountains  we  climbed 
over?"  inquired  Felix.  "How  little  they  look!  And  here,"  con- 
tinued he,  loosening  a  crumb  of  stone  from  the  rock,  "  is  the  old  cat- 
gold  again  ;  this  is  found  everywhere,  I  suppose  V" 

"  It  is  found  far  and  wide,"  answered  Jarno:  "and  as  thou  art 
asking  after  such  things,  I  may  bid  thee  notice,  that  thou  art  now 
sitting  on  the  oldest  mountain,  on  the  earliest  rock  of  this  world." 

"  Was  the  world  not  made  at  once,  then  ?  "  said  Felix. 

"  Hardly,"  answered  Jarno  ;  "  good  bread  needs  baking." 

"  Down  there,"  said  Felix,  "  is  another  sort  of  rock  ;  and  there 
again  another,  and  still  again  another,"  cried  he,  pointing  from  the 
nearest  mountains  to  the  more  remote,  and  so  downwards  to  the 
plain. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day,  and  Jarno  let  them  survey  the  lordly  pros- 
pect in  detail.  Here  and  there  stood  several  other  peaks,  similar  to 
the  one  our  travelers  were  on.  A  scondary  moderate  range  of  moun- 
tains seemed  as  if  struggling  up,  but  did  not  by  far  attain  that 
height.  Farther  off,  the  surface  flattened  still  more  ;  yet  again  some 
.strangely-protruding  forms  rose  to  view.  At  last,  in  the  remote  dis- 
tance, lakes  were  visible,  and  rivers  ;  and  a  fruitful  country  spread 
itself  out  like  a  sea.  And  when  the  eye  came  back,  it  pierced  into 
frightful  depths,  sounding  with  cataracts,  and  connected  with  each 
other  in  labyrinthic  combination. 

Felix  could  not  satisfy  himself  with  questions,  and  Jarno  was  kind 
enough  to  answer  all  of  them  :  in  which,  however,  Wilhelm  Uiought 
he  noticed  that  the  teacher  did  not  always  speak  quite  truly  and  sin- 
cerely. So,  after  the  unstaid  boys  had  again  clambered  off,  Wilhelm 
said  to  his  friend  :  "  Thou  hast  not  spoken  with  the  child,  about  these 
matters,  as  thou  speakest  to  thyself."  / 

"  That  indeed  were  a  heavy  requisition,"  answered  Jarno.  "  We'i 
do  not  always  speak,  even  to  ourselves,  as  we  think  ;  and  it  is  not  fit  ] 
to  tell  others  anything  but  what  they  can  take'  up.     A  man  under-  \ 


464  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

stands  notMng  but  what  is  commensurate  witli  him.  To  fix  a  child's 
attention  on  what  is  present  ;  to  give  him  a  description,  a  name,  is 
the  best  thing  we  can  do  for  him.  He  will  soon  enough  begin  to  in- 
quire after  causes." 

"  One  cannot  blame  this  latter  tendency,"  observed  Wilhelm. 
"  The  multiplicity  of  objects  perplexes  every  one  ;  and  it  is  easier, 
instead  of  investigating  them,  to  ask  directly,  whence  and  whither?  " 

"  And  yet,"  said  Jarno,  "  as  children  look  at  what  is  present  only 
superficially,  we  cannot  speak  with  them  of  origin  and  object  other- 
wise than  superficially  also." 

"  Most  men,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  continue  all  their  days  in  this 
predicament  ;  and  never  reach  that  glorious  epoch,  in  which  the  com- 
prehensible appears  to  us  common  and  insipid. " 

"It  may  well  be  called  glorious,"  answered  Jarno;  "for  it  is  a 
middle  stage  between  despair  and  deification." 

"  Let  us  abide  by  the  boy,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  who  is  at  present  my 
first  care.  He  has  somehow  got  a  fondness  for  minerals,  since  we 
began  this  journey.  Canst  thou  not  impart  so  much  to  me  as  would 
put  in  my  power  to  satisfy  him,  at  least  for  a  time?" 

"  That  will  not  do,"  said  Jarno.  "  In  every  new  department,  one 
must,  in  the  first  place,  begin  again  as  a  child  ;  throw  a  passionate 
interest  over  the  subject  ;  take  pleasure  in  the  shell,  till  one  has  the 
happiness  to  arrive  at  the  kernel." 

"Tell  me,  then,"  said  Wilhelm,  "how  hast  thou  attained  this 
knowledge?     For  it  is  not  so  very  long,  after  all,  since  we  parted." 

"  My  friend,"  said  Jarno,  "  we  were  forced  to  resign  ourselves,  if 
not  forever,  at  least  for  a  long  season.  The  first  thing  that  occurs  to 
a  stout-hearted  man,  under  such  circumstances,  is  to  begin  a  new 
life.  New  objects  will  not  suffice  him  ;  these  serve  only  for  diver- 
sion of  thought  ;  he  requires  a  new  whole,  and  plants  himself  in  the 
\  middle  of  it." 

"But  why,  then,"  interrupted  Wilhelm,  "choose  this  strangest 
and  loneliest  of  all  pursuits  ?  " 

"  Even  because  of  its  loneliness,"  cried  Jarno.  "  Men  I  wished  to 
avoid.  To  them  we  can  give  no  help,  and  they  hinder  us  from  help- 
ing ourselves.  Are  they  happy,  we  must  let  them  persevere  in  their 
stolidities  ;  are  they  unhappy,  we  must  save  them  without  disturb- 
ing these  stolidities  ;  and  no  one  ever  asks  whether  thou  art  happy 
or  unhappy." 

"It  is  not  quite  so  bad  with  them,  surely,"  answered  Wilhelm 
smiling.  r '" 

"  I  will  not  talk  thee  out  of  thy  happiness,"  said  Jarno.  *'  Go  on 
thy  way,  thou  second  Diogenes  !  Let  not  thy  lamp  in  daylight  go  out  ! 
Down  on  that  side  lies  a  new  world  before  thee  ;  but  I  dare  wager, 
things  stand  there  as  in  the  old  one,  If  thou  canst  not  pimp  and  pay 
debts,  thou  availest  nothing." 


CHAPTER  VI.  465 

"Yet  they  seem  to  me  more  entertaining  than  thy  dead  rocks," 
said  Willi  elm. 

"  Not  they  !  "  answered  Jarno  ;  "  for  my  rocks  are  at  least  incom- 
prehensible," 


CHAPTER  VI. 


The  two  friends  had  descended,  not  without  care  and  labor,  to 
reach  the  children,  who  were  now  lying  in  a  shady  spot  down  below. 
With  almost  greater  eagerness  than  their  picnic  repast,  the  collected 
rock-specimeus  were  unpacked  by  Montan  and  Felix.  The  latter  had 
much  to  ask,  the  former  much  to  nominate.  Felix  was  delighted  that 
his  new  teacher  could  give  him  names  for  all,  and  he  speedily  com- 
mitted them  to  memory.  At  length  he  produced  another  specimen, 
and  asked  :  "  What  do  you  call  this  then?" 

Montan  viewed  it  with  surprise,  and  said  :  "  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  " 

Fitz  answered  promptly  :  "  I  found  it  myself  ;  it  is  of  this  coun- 
try." 

"  Not  of  this  quarter,"  said  Montan.  Feliz  rejoiced  to  see  his 
master  somewhat  puzzled.  "Thou  shalt  have  a  ducat,"  said  Mon- 
^tan,  "  if  thou  bring  me  to  the  spot  where  it  lies." 

"  That  is  easy  to  earn,"  answered  Fitz  ;  "  but  not  immediately." 

"  Then  describe  the  place  to  me  accurately,  that  I  may  not  fail  to 
find  it  ;  but  the  thing  is  impossible  ;  for  this  is  a  cross-stone,  which 
comes  from  Santiago  in  Compostella,  and  which  some  stranger  has 
lost  ;  if  indeed  thou  hast  not  stolen  it  from  him,  for  its  curious  look." 

"  Give  your  ducat  into  my  master's  hands,"  s^id  Fitz,  "and  I  will 
honestly  confess  where  I  got  the  stoue.  In  the  ruined  church  at  St. 
Joseph,  there  is  likewise  a  ruined  altar.  Under  the  top-stones, 
which  are  all  broken  and  heaped  together,  I  discovered  a  layer  of 
this  rock,  which  has  been  the  foundation  of  the  other  ;  and  broke  off 
from  it  as  much  as  I  could  come  at.  If  the  upper  stones  were  cleared 
away,  one  might  find  much  more  of  it  there." 

"Take  thy  ducat,"  said  Montan  ;  "  thou  deservest  it  for  this  dis- 
covery. It  is  pretty  enough.  Men  naturally  rejoice  when  inanimate 
nature  produces  any  likeness  of  what  they  love  and  reverence.  Na- 
ture tlien  appears  to  us  in  the  form  of  a  sibyl,  who  has  beforehand 
laid  down  a  testimony  of  what  had  been  determined  from  eternity, 
and  was  not  to  be  realized  till  late  in  time.  On  this  rock,  as  on  a 
sacred  mysterious  primeval  basis,  the  priests  had  built  their  altar." 

Wilhelm,  who  had  listened  for  a  while,  and  observed  that  many 
names,  many  designations,  were  repeatedly  mentioned,  again  signi- 
fied his  former  wish,  that  Montan  would  impart  to  him  so  much  as 
was  required  for  the  primary  instruction  of  the  boy.     "  Give   that 


466  MEISTEB'S  TRAVELS. 

up,"  replied  Montan.  "  There  is  nothing  more  frightful  than  a 
teacher  who  knows  only  what  his  scholars  are  intended  to  knoW; 
He  who  means  to  teaCh  others,  may  indeed  ofteti  suppress  thfe  best 
of  what  he  knows  ;  but  he  must  not  be  half-iustructedl^ 

'*  But  where  are  such  perfect  teachers  to  be  had  ?" 

"  These  thou  wilt  find  very  easily,"  replied  Montan. 

"  Where,  then?"  said  Wilhelm,  with  some  unbelief. 

"  Where  the  thing  thou  art  wishing  to  learn  is  in  practice,"  said 
Montan.     "Our  best  instruction  we  obtain  from  complete  convers 
ance.     Dost  thou  not  learn  foreign  languages  best  in  the  countries 
where  they  are  at  home  ?— where  only  these  and  no  other  strike  thy 
ear?" 

"  And  so  it  was  among  the  mountains,"  inquired  Wilhelm,  "  that 
\j;hy  knowledge  of  mountains  was  acquired  ?  " 

"Of  course." 

"  Without  help  from  men?" 

"At  least  only  from  men  who  were  miners.  There,  where  the 
Pygmies,  allured  by  the  metallic  veins,  bore  through  the  rock,  mak- 
ing the  interior  of  the  earth  accessible  and  in  a  thousand  ways 
endeavoring  to  solve  the  hardest  problems  ;  there  is  the  place  where  au 
inquiring  thinker  ought  to  take  his  stand.  He  looks  on  action  and 
effort  ;  watches  the  progress  of  enterprises  ;  and  rejoices  in  the  suc- 
cessful and  the  unsuccessful.  What  is  useful  forms  but  a  part  of 
the  important.  Fully  to  possess,  to  command,  and  rule  an  object,  we*' 
must  first  study  it  for  its  own  sake." 

"  Is  there  such  a  place  in  the  neighborhood  ?"  said  Wilhelm.  "  1 
should  like  to  take  Felix  thither." 

"The  question  I  can  answer  in  the  affirmative,"  replied  Montan  ; 
"  the  project  not  exactly  assent  to.  At  least,  I  must  first  tell  thee  that 
thou  hast  the  power  of  choosing  among  many  other  branches  of 
activity,  of  knowledge,  of  art,  for  thy  Felix  ;  some  of  which  might, 
perhaps,  suit  him  better  than  this  sudden  fancy  which  he  has  taken 
up  at  the  moment,  most  probably  from  mere  imitation." 

"  Explain  thyself  more  clearly,"  interrupted  Wilhelm. 

"  Thou  must  know,  then,"  said  Montan,  "  that  we  are  here  on  the 
borders  of  a  province,  which  1  might  justly  call  a  pedagogic  Utopia. 
In  the  conviction  that  only  one  thing  can  be  carried  on,  tauglil  and 
communicated  with  full  advantages,  several  such  points  of  active 
instruction  have  been,  as  it  were,  sown  over  a  large  tract  of  country. 
At  each  of  these  places  thou  wilt  find  a  little  world,  but  so  complete 
within  its  limitation,  that  it  may  represent  and  model  any  other  of 
these  worlds,  nay,  the  great  busy  world  itself." 

"  I  do  not  altogether  comprehend  what  thou  canst  mean  by  this," 
interrupted  Wilhelm. 

"  Thou  shalt  soon  comprehend  it,"  said  the  other.  "  As  down,  not 
far  from  this,  among  the  mountains,  thou  wilt,  in  the  first  place, 
find  collected  round  a  mass  of  metalliferous  rocks,  whatever  is  of 


CHAPTEH  ri.  467 

use  for  enabling  man  to  appropriate  these  treasures  of  nature,  and, 
at  tlie  same  time,  to  acquire  general  conceptions  of  molding  the  rug- 
gedness  of  inanimate  things  more  dexterously  to  his  own  purposes  ; 
so,  down  in  the  lowest  level,  far  out  on  the  plain,  where  the  soil 
spreads  into  large  meadows  and  pastures,  thou  wilt  find  establish- 
ments for  managing  another  important  treasure  which  nature  has 
given  to  men." 

"  And  this  ?  "  inquired  Wilhelm. 

"  Is  the  horse,"  replied  the  other.  "  In  that  last  quarter  thou  art 
in  the  midst  of  everything  which  can  instruct  one  on  the  training, 
diet,  growth,  and  likewise  employment  of  this  noble  animal.  As  in 
these  hills  all  are  busy  digging,  boring,  climbing,  so  there  nothing 
is  more  anxiously  attended  to  than  the  young  brood,  springing,  as  it 
were,  out  of  the  ground  ;  and  every  one  is  occupied  foddering,  graz- 
ing, driving,  leading,  curbing  them,  mounting  their  backs,  and  in  all 
sorts  of  movements,  natural  and  artificial,  coursing  with  them  over 
the  plain." 

Felix,  who  had  approached  in  the  deepest  attention,  exclaimed,  in- 
terrupting him:  "0,  thither  will  we!  That  is  the  prettiest,  the 
best  of  all." 

"  It  is  far  thither,"  answered  Jarno  ;  "and  thou  wilt  find  some- 
thing more  agreeable  and  suitable,  perhaps,  by  the  way.  Any 
species  of  activity,"  continued  he,  "attracts  the  fondness  of  a  child  ; 
for  everything  looks  easy  that  is  practiced  to  perfection.  All  begin- 
nings are  hard,  says  the  proverb.  This,  in  a  certain  sense,  may  be 
true  ;  but  we  might  say,  with  a  more  universal  application  :  All  be- 
ginnings are  easy  ;  and  it  is  the  last  steps  that  are  climbed  most  rarely 
and  with  greatest  difficulty." 

Wilhelm,  who  had  been  reflecting  in  the  meanwhile,  now  said  to 
Montan  :  "  Is  it  actually  so,  as  thou  sayest,  that  these  people  have 
separated  the  various  sorts  of  activity,  both  in  the  practice  and  teach- 
ing of  them  ?  " 

"  They  have  done  it,"  said  Montan;  "and  with  reason.  What- 
ever any  man  has  to  effect  must  emanate  from  him  like  a  second 
self  ;  and  how  could  this  be  possible,  were  not  his  first  self  entirely 
pervaded  by  it  ?  " 

"  Yet  has  not  a  general  culture  been  reclconed  very  advantageous  ?  " 

"  It  may  really  be  so,"  replied  the  other  :  "  everything  fn  its  time. 
Xow  is  the  time  of  specialties.  Happy  he  who  understands  this,  and 
works  for  himself  and  others  in  that  spirit." 

"  In  my  spirit  it  cannot  be,"  replied  Wilhelm  ;  "  but  tell  me,  if  I 
thought  of  sending  Felix  for  a  while  into  one  of  these  circles,  which 
wouldst  thou  recommend  to  me  ?  " 

"  It  is  all  one,"  said  Jarno.  "  You  cannot  readily  tell  which  way 
a  child's  capacity  particularly  points.  For  me,  I  should  still  advise 
the  merriest  trade.  Take  him  to  those  horse-subduers.  Beginning 
as  a  groom  is  in  truth  little  easier  than  beginning  as  an  ore-beater  ; 


468  MEISTEtt'S  TRAVELS. 

but  the  prospect  is  always  gayer  ;   you  can  hope,  at  least,  to  get 
through  the  world  riding." 

It  is  easy  to  conceive  that  Wilhelm  had  many  other  doubts  to 
state,  and  many  farther  explanations  to  require  :  these  Jarno  settled 
in  his  usual  laconic  way  ;  but  at  last  he  broke  out  as  follows  :  "  In 
all  things  to  serve  from  the  lowest  station  upwards  is  necessary.  To 
restrict  yourself  to  a  trade  is  best.  -For  the  narrow  mind,  whatever 
he  attempts  is  still  a  trade  ;  for  the  higher  an  art  ;  and  the  highest, 
in  doing  one  thing  does  all ;  or,  to  speak  less  paradoxically,  in  the  one 
thing  which  he  does  rightly,  he  sees  the  likeness  of  all  that  is  done 
rightly.  Take  thy  Felix,"  continued  he,  "  through  the  province  ;  let 
the  dii^ectors  see  him  ;  they  will  soon  judge  him  and  dispose  of  him 
to  the  best  advantage.  The  boy  should  be  placed  among  his  equals, 
otherwise  he  seeks  them  for  himself,  and  then,  in  his  associates, 
finds  only  flatterers  or  tyrants." 


CHAPTER  VII. 


The  third  day  being  over,  the  friends,  in  conformity  to  the  engage- 
ment of  our  Reuunciants,  had  to  part ;  and  Jarno  declared  he  would 
now  fly  so  far  into  the  waste  mountains  that  no  one  should  be  able  to 
discover  him.  "There  is  nothing  more  frightful,"  said  he,  "in  a 
state  like  ours,  than  to  meet  an  old  true  friend,  to  whom  we  can  com- 
municate our  thoughts  without  reserve.  So  long  as  one  is  by  himself 
one  fancies  there  is  no  end  to  the  novelties  and  wonders  he  is  study- 
ing ;  but  let  the  two  talk  a  while  tog^etUer,  right  from  the  heart ;  one 
sees  how  soon  all  this  is  exhausted.  Nothing  is  endless  but  inanity. 
Clever  people  soon  explain  themselves  to  one  another,  and  then  they 
have  done^'  But  new  I  will  dive  into  the  chasms  of  the  rocks,  and^ 
with  them  begin  a  mute,  unfathomable  conversation.  -' 

"  Have  a  care,"  said  Wilhelm,  smiling,  "  lest  Fitz  come  upon  thy 
track.     This  time,  at  least,  he  succeeded  in  finding  thee." 

"  How  didst  thou  manage  that?"  said  Montan.  "  After  all,  it  was 
only  chance." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  answered  Fitz.  "I  will  tell  you  my  secret  for 
a  fair  consideration.  You  mineralogists,  wherever  you  go,  keep 
striking  to  the  right  and  left  ;  from  every  stone,  from  every  rock, 
breaking  off  a  piece,  as  if  gold  and  silver  were  hid  in  them.  One 
has  but  to  follow  this  trace  ;  and  where  any  corner  shows  a  fresh 
breakage,  there  some  of  you  have  been.  One  notes  and  notes,  forward 
and  forward,  and  at  last  comes  upon  the  man." 

Fitz  was  praised  and  rewarded.  The  friends  parted  ;  Montan  alone, 
the  little  caravan  in  company.  Wilhelm  had  settled  the  place  they 
should  make  for.     The  porter  proposed  a  road  to  it ;  but  the  children 


CHAPTER  VII.  469 

had  taken  a  fancy  for  looking,  by  tlie  way,  at  tlie  Giant's  Castle,  of 
which  Fitz  had  talked  so  much.  Felix  was  curious  about  the  large 
black  piUars,  the  great  door,  the  cellar,  the  caves  and  vaults  ;  and 
hopetl  he  might  perhaps  find  something  there,  something  of  even 
greater  value  than  the  box. 

How  he  came  by  this,  he  had,  in  the  interim,  informed  his  father. 
Creeping  through  the  cleft,  it  appeared,  he  had  got  down  into  an  open 
space  pretty  well  lighted  ;  and  noticed  in  the  corner  of  it  a  large  iron 
cliest,  the  lid  of  which,  though  it  was  not  locked,  he  could  not  lift, 
but  only  raise  a  very  little.  To  get  into  this,  he  had  called  to  his 
father  for  the  staves,  which  he  had  employed  partly  as  props  under 
the  lid,  partly  as  levers  to  heave  it  up  ;  and  so  at  length,  forcing  his 
way  into  the  chest,  had  found  it  wholly  empty,  except  for  the  little 
box  which  was  lying  in  one  of  the  nooks.  This  toy  they  had  shown 
Moutan,  who  agreed  with  them  in  opinion,  that  it  should  be  kept 
unopened,  and  no  violence  done  to  it  ;  for  it  could  not  be  unlocked 
except  by  a  very  complicated  key. 

The  porter  declined  going  with  the  rest  to  the  Giant's  Castle,  and 
proceeded  down  the  smooth  footpath  by  himself.  The  others  toiled 
after  Fitz,  through  moss  and  tangle  ;  and  at  length  reached  the 
natural  colonnade,  which,  towering  over  a  huge  mass  of  fragments, 
rose  black  and  wondrous  into  the  air.  Yet,  without  much  regarding 
what  he  saw  before  his  eyes,  Felix  instantly  began  inquiring  for  the 
other  promised  marvels  ;  and  as  none  of  them  was  to  be  seen,  Fitz 
could  excuse  himself  no  otherwise  than  by  declaring  that  these  things 
were  never  visible  except  on  Sundays  and  particular  festivals,  and 
then  only  for  a  few  hours.  The  boys  remained  convinced  that  the 
Pillared  Palace  was  a  work  of  men's  hands.  Wilhelm  saw  well  that 
it  was  a  work  of  nature  ;  but  he  could  have  wished  for  Montan  to 
speak  with  on  the  subject. 

They  now  proceeded  rapidly  down  hill,  through  a  wood  of  high  taper 
larches  ;  which  becoming  more  and  more  transparent,  ere  long  exposed 
to  view  the  fairest  spot  you  can  imagine,  lying  in  the  clearest  sun- 
shine. 

A  large  garden,  seemingly  appropriated  to  use,  not  ornament,  lay 
richly  furni.shed  with  fruit-trees,  yet  open  before  their  eyes  ;  for  the 
ground,  sloping  on  the  whole,  had  been  regularly  cut  into  a  number 
of  divisions,  now  raised,  now  hollowed  in  manifold  variety,  and  thus 
exhibited  a  complex  waving  surface.  Several  dwelling-houses  stood 
scattered  up  and  down,  so  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  space  belonged  to 
several  proprietors  ;  yet  Fitz  assured  them,  that  one  individual  owned 
and  directed  the  whole.  Beyond  the  garden  stretched  a  boundless 
landscape,  beautifully  cultivated  and  planted,  in  which  lakes  and  rivei's 
might  be  distinguished  in  the  distance. 

Still  descending,  they  had  ajiproached  nearer  and  nearer,  and  were 
now  expecting  in  a  few  moments  to  be  in  the  garden,  when  Wilhelm 
all  at  once  stopped  short,  and  Fitz  could  not  hide  his  roguish  satisfac- 


470  MEI8TER' 8  TRAVELS. 

tion  ;  for  a  yawning  chasm  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  opened  before 
them,  and  showed  on  the  other  side  a  wall  which  had  hitherto  been 
concealed,  steep  enough  without,  though  within  it  was  quite  filled  up 
with  soil.  A  deep  trench,  therefore,  separated  them  from  the  garden, 
into  which  they  were  directly  looking.  "  We  have  still  a  good  circuit 
to  make,"  said  Fitz,  "  before  we  get  the  road  that  leads  in.  However, 
I  know  an  entrance  on  this  side,  which  is  much  shorter.  The  vaults 
where  the  hill-water  in  time  of  rain  is  let  through,  in  regular  quantities 
into  the  garden,  open  here  ;  they  are  high  and  broad  enough  for  one 
to  walk  along  without  difficulty."  The  instant  Felix  heard  of  vaults, 
he  insisted  on  taking  this  passage  and  no  other.  Wilhelm  followed 
the  children  ;  and  the  party  descended  the  large  steps  of  this  covered 
aqueduct,  which  was  now  lying  quite  dry.  Down  below,  they  found 
themselves  sometimes  in  light,  sometimes  in  darkness,  according  as 
the  side  openings  admitted  day,  or  the  walls  and  pillars  excluded  it. 
At  last  they  reached  a  pretty  even  space,  and  were  slowly  proceeding, 
when  all  at  once  a  shot  went  off  beside  them,  and  at  the  same  time  two 
secret  iron-grated  doors  started  out,  and  inclosed  them  on  both  sides. 
Not  indeed  the  whole  of  them  ;  Wilhelm  and  Felix  only  were  caught. 
For  Fitz,  the  instant  he  heard  the  shot,  sprang  back,  and  the  closing 
grate  caught  nothing  but  his  wide  sleeve  ;  he  himself  nimbly  throw- 
in  off  his  jacket,  had  darted  away  without  loss  of  a  moment. 

The  two  prisoners  had  scarcely  time  to  recover  from  their  aston- 
ishment, till  they  heard  voices  which  appeared  to  be  slowly  approach- 
ing. In  a  little  while,  some  armed  men  with  torches  came  forward 
to  the  grate,  looking  with  eager  eyes  what  sort  of  capture  they  had 
made.  At  the  same  time,  they  asked,  if  the  prisoners  would  surren- 
der peaceably?  "Surrender  is  not  the  word  here,"  said  Wilhelm  ; 
"  we  are  already  in  your  power.  It  is  rather  our  part  to  ask,  whether 
you  will  spare  us  ?  The  only  weapon  we  have,  I  give  up  to  you. " 
And  with  these  words  he  handed  his  hanger  through  the  grate  ;  this 
opened  directly,  and  the  two  strangers  were  led  forward  by  the  party, 
with  great  composure.  After  a  short  while,  they  found  themselves 
in  a  singular  place  ;  it  was  a  spacious  cleanly  apartment,  with  many 
little  windows  at  the  very  top  of  the  walls  ;  and  these,  notwithstand- 
ing the  tliick  iron  gratings,  admitted  light  enough.  Seats,  sleeping- 
places,  and  whatever  else  is  expected  in  a  middling  inn,  had  been 
provided  ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  any  one  placed  here  could  want  nothing 
but  freedom. 

Wilhelm,  directly  after  entering,  had  sat  down  to  consider  his  situ- 
ation ;  Felix,  on  the  other  hand,  on  recovering  from  his  astonishment, 
broke  out  into  an  incredible  fury.  The.se  large  walls,  these  high 
windows,  these  strong  doors,  this  seclusion,  this  restriction,  were  en- 
tirely new  to  him.  He  looked  round  and  round,  he  ran  hither  and 
thither  ;  stamped  with  his  feet,  wept,  rattled  the  doors,  struck  against 
them  with  Iws  fists,  nay,  was  even  on  the  point  of  running  at  them 
with  his  head,  had  not  Wilhelm  seized  him,  and  held  him  fast  be- 


GSAtTEB  ril.  471 

tween  his  knees  ".  "  Do  but  look  at  the  thing  calmly,  tny  son)*'  be^aii 
he;  "  for  impatience  and  violence  cannot  help  us.  The  mystery  will 
clear  up,  and  I  must  be  widely  mistaken,,  or  Nve  are  fallen  into  no 
wicked  hands.  Read  these  inscriptions  :  '  To  the  innocent,  deliver- 
ance and  reparation  ;  to  the  misled,  compassion  ;  and  to  the  guilty, 
avenging  justice.'  All  this  bespeaks  to  us  that  these  establishments 
are  works  not  of  cruelty,  but  of  necessity.  Men  have  but  too  niiitth 
cause  to  secure  themselves  from  men.  Of  ill-wishers  there  are  many, 
of  ill-doers  not  few  ;  and  to  live  fitly,  well-doing  will  not  always  suf- 
fice." Felix  still  sobbed  ;  but  he  had  pacified  himself  in  some  de- 
gree, more  by  the  caresses  than  the  words  of  his  father.  "  Let  this 
experience,"  continued  VVilhelm,  "which  thou  gainest  so  early,  and 
so  innocently,  remain  a  lively  testimony  to  thy  mind,  in  how  com-  _ 
plete  and  accomplished  a  century  thou  livest.  What  a  journey  had 
human  nature  to  travel,  before  it  reached  the  point  of  being  mild 
even  to  the  guilty,  merciful  to  the  injurious,  humane  to  the  inhuman  ! 
Doubtless  they  were  men  of  godlike  souls  who  first  taught  this,  who 
spent  their  lives  in  rendering  the  practice  of  it  possible,  and  recom- 
mending it  to  others.  Of  the  beautiful  men  are  seldom  capable, 
oftener  of  the  good  ;  and  how  highly  should  we  value  those  who 
endeavor,  with  great  sacrifices,  to  forward  that  good  among  their 
fellows  ! " 

Felix,  in  the  course  of  this  consolatory  speech,  had  fallen  quietly 
asleep  on  his  father's  bosom  ;  and  scarcely  had  the  latter  laid  him 
down  on  one  of  the  ready-made  beds,  when  the  door  opened,  and  a 
man  of  prepossessing  appearance  stepped  in.  After  looking  kindly 
at  Wilhelm  for  some  time,  he  began  to  inquire  about  the  circumstances 
which  had  led  him  by  the  private  passage,  and  into  this  predicament. 
Wilhelm  related  the  affair  as  it  stood  ;  produced  some  papers,  which 
served  to  explain  who  he  was,  and  referred  to  the  porter,  who,  he 
said,  must  soon  arrive  on  the  other  side  by  the  usual  road.  This 
being  so  far  explained,  the  official  person  invited  his  guest  to  follow 
him.  Felix  could  not  be  awakened,  and  his  father  carried  him  asleep 
from  the  place  which  had  incited  him  to  such  violent  passion. 

Wilhelm  followed  his  conductor  into  a  fair  garden  apartment,  where 
refreshments  were  set  down,  which  he  was  invited  to  partake  of, 
while  the  other  went  to  report  the  state  of  matters  to  his  superior. 
When  Felix,  on  awakening,  perceived  a  little  covered  table,  fruit, 
wine,  biscuit,  and  at  the  same  time  the  cheerful  aspect  of  a  wide-open 
door,  he  knew  not  what  to  make  of  it.  He  ran  out,  he  ran  back,  he 
thought  he  had  been  dreaming  ;  and  in  a  little  while,  with  such  dainty 
fare  and  such  pleasant  sights,  the  preceding  terror  and  all  his  obstruc- 
tion had  vanished,  like  an  oppressive  vision  in  the  brightness  of  morn- 
ing. 

The  porter  had  arrived  ;  the  officer,  with  another  man  of  a  still 
friendlier  aspect,  brought  him  in  ;  and  the  business  now  came  to 
light,  as  follows  :    The  owner  of   this  property,  charitable  in  this 


472  MEI8TER' 8  TRAVELS. 

higher  sense,  that  he  studied  to  awaken  all  round  him  to  activity  and 
effort,  had  for  several  years  been  accustomed,  from  his  boundless 
young  plantations,  to  give  out  the  small  wood  to  diligent  and  careful 
cultivators,  gratis  ;  to  the  negligent,  for  a  certain  price  ;  and  to  such 
as  wished  to  trade  in  it,  likewise  at  a  moderate  valuation.  But  these 
two  latter  classes  also  had  required  their  supplies  gratis,  as  the  mer- 
itorious were  treated  ;  and  this  being  refused  them,  they  had  attempted 
stealing  trees.  Their  attempt  succeeded  in  many  ways.  This  vexed 
the  owner  the  more,  as  not  only  were  the  plantations  plundered,  but, 
by  too  early  thinning,  often  ruined.  It  had  been  discovered  that  the 
thieves  entered  by  this  aqueduct  ;  so  the  trap-grate  had  been  erected 
in  the  place  with  a  spring  gun,  which,  however,  was  only  meant  for 
a  signal.  The  little  boy  had,  under  various  pretexts,  often  made  his 
appearance  in  the  garden  ;  and  nothing  was  more  natural,  than  that, 
out  of  mischief  and  audacity,  he  should  lead  the  stranger  by  a  road 
which  he  had  formerly  discovered  for  other  purposes.  The  people 
could  liave  wished  to  get  hold  of  him  :  meanwhile  his  little  jacket 
was  brought  in,  and  put  by  among  other  judicial  seizures. 

Wilhelm  was  now  made  acquainted  with  the  owner  and  his  people, 
and  by  them  received  with  the  friendliest  welcome.  Of  this  family 
we  shall  say  nothing  more  here,  as  some  fartlier  light  on  them  and 
their  concerns  is  offered  us  by  the  subsequent  history. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

WILHELM   TO   NATALIA. 

Man  is  of  a  companionable,  conversing  nature  :  his  delight  is  great 
when  he  exercises  faculties  that  have  been  given  him,  even  though 
nothing  farther  came  of  it.  How  often  in  societ_v  do  we  hear  the  com- 
plaint, that  one  will  not  let  the  other  speak  ;  and  in  the  same  manner 
also  we  might  say,  that  one  would  not  let  the  otlier  write,  were  not 
writing  an  employment  commonly  transacted  in  private  and  alone. 

How  much  people  write  one  could  scarcely  ever  conjecture.  I 
speak  not  of  what  is  printed,  though  that  in  itself  is  abundant  enough  ; 
but  of  all  that,  in  the  shape  of  letters  and  memorials  and  narratives, 
anecdotes,  descri])tions  of  present  circumstances  in  the  life  of  individ- 
uals, sketches  and  larger  essays,  circulate  in  secret  ;  of  this  you  can 
form  no  idea  till  you  have  lived  for  some  time  in  a  community  of 
cultivated  families,  as  I  am  now  doing.  In  the  sphere  where  I  am 
moving  at  present,  there  is  almost  as  much  time  employed  in  inform- 
ing friends  and  relatives  of  what  is  transacted,  as  was  employed  in 
transacting  it.  This  observation,  which  for  several  weeks  has  been 
constantly  forced  on  me,  I  now  make  with  the  more  pleasure,  as  the 


CHAPTER   VIII.  47S 

Writing  tendency  of  my  new  friends  enables  me  at  once  and  perfectly 
to  get  acquainted  with  their  characters  and  circumstances.  I  am 
trusted  ;  a  sheaf  of  letters  is  given  to  me,  some  quires  of  a  traveling 
journal,  the  confessions  of  some  mind  not  yet  in  unity  with  itself  ; 
and  thus  everywhere,  in  a  little  while,  I  am  at  home.  I  know  the 
neighboring  circle,  I  know  the  persons  whose  acquaintance  I  am  to 
obtain  ;  I  understand  them  better  almost  than  they  do  themselves, 
seeing  they  are  still  implicated  in  their  situation,  while  I  hover  lightly 
past  them,  ever  with  thy  hand  in  mine,  ever  speaking  with  thee 
about  all  I  see.  Indeed  it  is  the  first  condition  I  make,  before  accept- 
ing any  confidence  offered  me,  that  I  may  impart  it  to  thee.  Here, 
accordingly,  are  some  letters,  which  will  introduce  thee  into  the  cir- 
cle, in  which,  without  breaking  or  evading  my  vow,  I  for  the  present 
revolve. 

THE  NUT-BROWN  MAID 

LEXAKDO  TO  HIS  AUXT. 

At  last,  dear  aunt,  after  three  years,  you  receive  my  first  letter, 
conformably  to  our  engagement,  which,  in  truth,  was  singular  enough. 
I  wished  to  see  the  world  and  mingle  in  it  ;  and  wished,  during  that 
period,  to  forget  the  home  whence  1  had  departed,  whither  I  hoped 
to  return.  The  whole  impression  of  this  home  I  purposed  to  retain, 
and  the  partial  and  individual  was  not  to  confuse  me  at  a  distance. 
Meanwhile  the  necessary  tokens  of  life  and  welfare  have,  form  time 
to  time,  passed  to  and  fro  between  us.  I  have  regularly  received 
money  ;  and  little  presents  for  my  kindred  have  been  delivered  you 
for  distribution.  By  the  wares  I  sent,  you  would  see  how  and  where 
I  was.  By  the  wines,  I  doubt  not  my  uncle  has  tasted  out  my  several 
places  of  abode  ;  then  the  laces,  nicknacks,  steel-wares,  would  indi- 
cate to  my  fair  cousins  my  progress  through  Brabant,  by  Paris,  to 
London  ;  and  so,  on  their  writing-desks,  work-boxes,  tea-tables,  I 
shall  find  many  a  symbol  wherewith  to  connect  the  history  of  my 
journeyings.  You  have  accompanied  me  without  hearing  of  me  ;  and 
perhaps  may  care  little  about  knowing  more.  For  me,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  highly  desirable  to  learn,  through  your  kindness,  how  it 
stands  with  the  circle  into  which  I  am  once  more  entering.  I  would, 
in  truth,  return  from  strange  countries  as  a  stranger ;  who,  that  lie 
may  not  be  unpleasant,  first  informs  himself  about  the  way  and  man- 
ner of  the  household  ;  not  fancying  that,  for  his  fine  eyes  or  hair,  he 
shall  be  received  there  quite  in  his  own  fasliion.  Write  to  me,  there- 
fore, of  my  worthy  uncle,  of  your  fair  nieces,  of  yourself,  of  our 
relations  near  and  distant,  of  servants  also,  old  and  new.  In  short, 
let  your  practiced  pen,  which  for  so  long  a  time  you  have  not  dipped 
into  ink  for  your  nephew,  now  again  tint  paper  in  his  favor.  Your 
letter  of  news  shall  forthwith  be  my  credential,  with  which  I  intro- 
duce myself  so  soon  as  I  obtain  it.     On  you,  therefore,  it  depends 


474  MEI8TER' 8  TRAVELS. 

whether  you  will  see  me  or  not.  '  We  alter  far  less  than  we  imagine  ; 
and  circumstances,  too,  continue  much  as  they  were.  \  Not  only  what 
has  altered,  but  what  has  continued,  what  has  by  degrees  waxed  and 
waned,  do  I  now  wish  instantly  to  recognize  at  my  return,  and  so 
once  more  to  see  myself  in  a  well-known  mirror.  Present  my  hearti- 
est salutations  to  all  our  people  ;  and  believe,  that  in  the  singular 
manner  of  my  absence  and  my  return,  there  may  lie  more  true  affec- 
tion than  is  often  found  in  constant  participation  and  lively  intercourse. 
A  thousand  compliments  to  one  and  all  ! 

Postscript. — Neglect  not  also,  my  dear  aunt,  to  say  a  word  or  two 
about  our  dependents  ;  how  it  stands  with  our  .stewards  and  farmers. 
What  is  come  with  Valerina,  the  daughter  of  that  farmer,  whom  my 
uncle,  with  justice  certainly,  but  also,  as  I  thought,  with  some  seve- 
rity, ejected  from  his  lands  when  I  went  away  ?  You  see,  1  still  re- 
member many  a  particular  ;  I  still  know  all.  On  the  past  you  shall 
examine  me,  when  you  have  told  me  of  the  present. 

THE  AUNT  TO  JULIETTA. 

At  last,  dear  children,  a  letter  from  our  three-years  speechless  trav- 
eler. What  strange  beings  these  strange  men  are  !  He  will  have  it 
that  his  wares  and  tokens  were  as  good  as  so  many  kind  words,  which 
friend  may  speak  or  write  to  friend.  He  actually  fancies  himself  our 
creditor,  requires  from  us,  in  the  first  place,  the  performance  of  that 
service,  which  he  so  unkindly  refused.  What  is  to  be  done  1  For  me, 
I  should  have  met  his  wishes  forthwith  in  a  long  letter,  did  not  this 
headache  signify  too  clearly  that  the  present  sheet  can  scarcely  be 
filled.  We  all  long  to  see  him.  Do  you,  my  dears,  undertake  the 
business.  Should  1  be  recovered  before  you  have  done,  I  will  con- 
tribute my  share.  Choose  the  persons  and  circumstances,  as  you  like 
best  to  describe  them.  Divide  the  task.  You  will  do  it  all  far  better 
than  I.     The  messenger  will  bring  me  back  a  note  from  you. 

JULIETTA   TO   HER   AUNT. 

We  have  read  and  considered  ;  and  now  send  you  by  the  messenger 
our  view  of  the  matter,  each  in  particular  ;  having  first  jointly  sig- 
nified that  we  are  not  so  charitable  as  our  dear  aunt  to  her  ever- 
perverse  nephew.  Now,  when  he  has  kept  his  cards  hid  from  us  for 
three  years,  and  still  keeps  them  hid,  we  forsooth  are  to  spread  ours 
on  the  table,  and  play  an  open  against  a  secret  game.  This  is  not  fair  ; 
and  yet  let  it  pass  ;  for  the  craftiest  is  often  caught,  simply  by  his 
own  over-anxious  precautions.  But  as  to  the  way  and  manner  of 
transacting  this  commission,  we  are  not  agreed.  To  write  of  our 
familiars  as  we  ti:>ink  of  them,  is  for  us  at  least  a  very  strange  prob- 
lem. Commonly  we  do  not  think  of  them  at  all,  except  in  this  or  that 
particular  case,  when  they  give  us  some  peculiar  satisfaction  or  vex- 
ation. At  other  times,  each  lets  his  neighbor  go  his  way.  You  alone 
could  manage  it,  dear  aunt,  for  you  have  both  the  penetration  and  the 
tolerance.     Hersilia,  who  you  know  is  not  difficult  to  kindle,  has  just, 


CHAPTER  VIII.  475 

on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  given  me  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  whole 
family  in  all  the  graces  of  caricature.  I  wish  it  stood  on  paper,  to 
entice  a  smile  from  yourself  in  your  illness  ;  but  not  that  I  would  have 
it  sent.  My  own  project  is,  to  lay  before  him  our  correspondence  for 
these  three  years  ;  then  let  him  read,  if  he  have  the  heart  ;  or  let  him 
come  and  see  with  his  eyes,  if  he  have  not.  Your  letters  to  me,  dear 
aunt,  are  in  the  best  order,  and  all  at  your  service.  Hersilia  dissents 
from  this  opinion  ;  excuses  herself  with  the  disorder  of  her  papers, 
and  so  forth,  as  she  will  tell  you  herself. 

HERSILIA   TO   HER   AUNT. 

I  will  and  must  be  very  brief,  dear  aunt,  for  the  messenger  is  clown- 
ishly  impatient.  I  reckon  it  an  excess  of  generosity,  and  not  at  all  in 
season,  to  submit  our  correspondence  to  Lenardo.  What  has  he  to  do 
with  knowing  all  the  good  we  have  said  of  him,  with  knowing  all  the 
ill  we  have  said  of  him,  and  finding  out  from  the  latter  still  more  than 
from  the  former  that  we  like  him  V  Hold  him  tight,  I  entreat  you. 
There  is  something  so  precise  and  presumptuous  in  this  demand,  in 
this  conduct  of  his  ;  just  the  fashion  of  your  young  gentlemen  when 
they  return  from  foreign  parts.  They  can  never  look  on  those  who 
have  stayed  at  home  as  full-grown  persons,  like  themselves.  Make 
your  headache  an  excuse.  He  will  come,  doubtless  ;  and  if  he  do  not 
come,  we  can  wait  a  little.  Perhaps  his  next  idea  may  be  to  introduce 
himself  in  some  strange  secret  way,  to  become  acquainted  with  us  in 
disguise  ;  and  who  knows  what  more  may  be  included  in  the  plan  of 
so  deep  a  gentleman?  How  pretty  and  curious  this  would  be  !  It 
could  not  fail  to  bring  about  all  manner  of  embroilments  and  develop- 
ments ;  far  grander  than  any  that  could  be  produced  by  such  a  diplo- 
matic entrance  into  his  family  as  he  now  purposes. 

The  messenger  !  The  messenger  !  Bring  up  your  old  people  better, 
or  send  your  young  ones.  This  man  is  neither  to  be  pacified  with 
flattery  nor  wine.     A  thousand  farewells  ! 

Poiitscript  for  Postscript. — What  does  our  cousin  want,  will  you 
tell  me,  with  his  postscript  of  Valerina "?  This  question  of  his  has 
struck  me  doubly.  She  is  the  only  person  whom  he  mentions  by 
name.  The  rest  of  us  are  nieces,  aunts,  stewards  ;  not  persons  but 
titles.  Valerina,  our  lawyer's  daughter  !  In  truth,  a  pretty,  fair- 
haired  girl,  that  may  have  glanced  in  our  gallant  cousin's  eyes  before 
he  went  away.  She  is  married  well  and  happily  ;  this  to  you  is  no 
news  ;  but  to  him  it  is,  of  course,  as  unknown  as  everything  that 
has  occurred  here.  Forget  not  to  inform  him,  in  a  postscript,  that 
Valerina  grew  daily  more  and  more  beautiful,  and  so  at  last  made  a 
very  good  match.  That  she  is  the  wife  of  a  rich  proprietor.  That 
the  lovely,  fair-haired  maid  is  married.  Make  it  perfectly  distinct 
to  him.  But  neither  is  this  all,  dear  aunt.  How  the  man  can  so 
accurately  remember  his  flaxen-headed  beauty,  and  yet  confound 
her  with  the  daughter  of  that  worthless  farmer,  with  the  wild  hum- 


476  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

ble-bee  of  a  brunette,  whose  name  was  Nacbodina,  and  wbo  went 
away  Heaven  knows  whitber,  tbis,  I  declare  to  you,  remains  entirely 
incomprebensible,  and  puzzles  me  quite  excessively.  For  it  seems 
as  if  our  pretty  cousin,  wbo  prides  bimself  on  bis  good  memory, 
could  cbange  names  and  persons  to  a  very  strange  degree.  Per- 
haps be  feels  tbis  obscurely  bimself,  and  Avould  have  the  faded 
image  refreshed  by  your  delineation.  Hold  him  tight,  I  beg  of  you  ; 
but  try  to  learn,  for  our  own  behoof,  how  it  does  stand  with  these 
Valerinas  and  Nachodinas  ;  and  how  many  more  Inas  and  Trinas  have 
retained  their  place  in  his  imagination,  while  the  poor  Ettas  and  Ilias 
have  vanished.     The  messenger  !     The  cursed  messenger  I 

THE  AUNT  TO  HER  NIECES. 

(Dictated.) 

Why  should  we  dissemble  towards  those  we  have  to  spend  our  life 
with  ?  Lenardo,  with  all  bis  peculiarities,  deserves  confidence.  1 
send  him  both  your  letters  :  from  these  be  will  get  a  view  of  you  ; 
and  the  rest  of  us,  I  hope,  will  ere  long  unconsciously  find  occasion 
to  depict  ourselves  before  him  likewise.  Farewell  !  My  head  is  very 
painful. 

HERSILIA  TO  HER  AUNT. 

Why  should  we  dissemble  towards  those  we  have  to  spend  our  life 
with  ?  Lenardo  is  a  spoiled  nephew.  It  is  horrible  in  you  to  send 
him  our  letters.  From  these  be  will  get  no  real  view  of  us  ;  and  I 
wish  with  all  my  heart  for  oj)portunity  to  let  him  view  me  in  soine  other 
light.  You  give  pain  to  others,  while  you  are  in  pain  yourself,  and 
blind  to  boot.  Quick  recovery  to  your  head  !  Your  heart  is  irrecov- 
erable. 

THE  AUNT  TO  HERSILIA. 

Thy  last  note  I  should  likewise  have  packed  in  for  Lenardo,  had  I 
happened  to  continue  by  the  purpose,  which  my  irrecoverable  heart, 
my  sick  bead,  and  my  love  of  ease,  suggested  to  me.  Your  letters 
are  not  gone.  1  am  just  parting  with  the  young  man,  who  has  been 
for  some  time  living  in  our  circle,  who,  by  the  strangest  chance,  has 
come  to  know  us  pretty  well,  and  is  withal  of  an  intelligent  and 
kindly  nature.  Him  I  am  dispatching.  He  undertakes  the  task  with 
great  readiness.  He  will  prepare  our  nephew,  and  send  or  bring  him. 
Thus  can  j'our  aunt  recollect  herself  in  the  course  of  a  rash  enterprise, 
and  bend  into  another  path.  Hersilia  also  will  take  thought  ;  and  a 
friendly  revocation  will  not  long  be  wanting  from  her  hand. 

Wilhelm  having  accurately  and  circumstantially  fulfilled  this  task, 
Lenardo  answered  with  a  smile  :  "  Much  as  I  am  obliged  to  you  for 
what  you  tell  me,  I  must  still  put  another  question.  Did  not  my 
aunt,  in  conclusion,  request  you  also  to  inform  me  of  another  and 
seemingly  an  unimportant  matter?" 


CHAPTER  VIII.  477 

Williehu  tliouglit  a  moment.  "  Yes,"  said  he.  then  ;  "  I  remember. 
She  mentiom^d  a  lady,  named  Valerina.  Of  her  1  was  to  tell  you 
that  she  was  happily  wedded,  and  every  way  well." 

"  You  roll  a  stone  from  my  heart,"  replied  Leuardo.  "  I  now 
gladly  return  home,  since  I  need  not  fear  that  my  recollection  of  this 
girl  can  reproach  me  there." 

"  It  beseems  not  me  to  inquire  what  relation  you  have  had  to  her," 
said  Willielm  ;  ' '  only  you  may  be  at  ease,  if  in  any  way  you  feel  con- 
cerned for  her  fortunes." 

"It  is  the  strangest  relation  in  the  world,"  returned  Lenardo  : 
"nowise  a  love  matter,  as  you  might  perhaps  conjecture.  I  may  con- 
fide in  you,  and  tell  it,  as  indeed  there  is  next  to  nothing  to  be  told. 
But  what  must  you  think,  when  I  assure  you,  that  this  faltering 
in  my  return,  this  fear  of  revisiting  our  family,  the  strange  pre- 
paratives, and  inquiries  how  things  looked  at  home,  had  no  other 
object  but  to  learn,  by  the  way,  how  it  stood  with  this  young  woman. 

"  For  you  will  believe,"  continued  he,  "  I  am  very  well  aware  that 
we  may  leave  people  whom  we  know,  without  finding  them,  even 
after  a  considerable  time,  much  altered  ;  and  so  I  likeAvise  expect  very 
soon  to  be  quite  at  home  with  my  relatives.  This  single  being  only 
gave  me  pause  :  her  fortune,  I  knew,  must  have  changed  ;  and,  thank 
Heaven,  jt  has  changed  for  the  better." 

"  You  excite  my  curiosity,"  said  Wilhelm.  "  There  must  be  some- 
thing singular  in  this." 

"  I  at  least  think  it  so,"  replied  Lenardo,  and  began  his  narrative 
as  follows  : 

"To  accomplish,  in  my  youth,  the  grand  adventure  of  a  tour 
through  cultivated  Europe,  was  a  fixed  purpose,  which  I  had  enter- 
tained from  boyhood,  but  the  execution  of  which  was,  as  usually 
happens  in  these  things,  from  time  to  time  postponed,  \yimt  was  at 
hand  attracted  me,  retained  me  ;  and  the  distant  lost  more  and  more 
of  its  charms,  the  more  I  read  of  it,  or  heard  it  talked  of.  However, 
at  last,  incited  by  my  uncle,  allured  by  friends  who  had  gone  forth 
into  the  world  before  me,  I  did  form  the  resolution,  and  that  more 
rapidly  than  any  one  had  been  expecting. 

"  My  uncle,  who  had  to  afEord  the  main  requisite  for  my  enterprise, 
directly  made  this  liis  chief  concern.  You  know  him,  and  the  way 
he  has  ;  how  he  still  rushes  with  his  whole  force  on  one  single  object, 
and  everything  else  in  the  meanwhile  must  rest  and  be  silent  ;  by 
which  means,  indeed,  he  has  effected  much  that  seemed  to  lie  beyond 
the  influence  of  any  private  man.  This  journey  came  upon  him,  in 
some  degree,  unawares  ;  yet  he  very  soon  took  his  measures.  Some 
buildings,  which  he  has  planned,  nay,  even  begun,  were  abandoned  ; 
and  as  he  never  on  any  account  meddles  with  his  accumulated  stock, 
he  looked  about  him,  as  a  prudent  financier,  for  other  ways  and 
means.  The  most  obvious  plan  was  to  call  in  out-standing  debts, 
especially  remainders  of  rent  :  for  this  also  was  one  of  hia  habits, 


478  MEISTEB'S  TRAVELS. 

that  he  was  indulgent  to  debtors,  so  long  as  he  himself  had,  to  a  cer- 
tain degree,  no  need  of  money.  He  gave  his  steward  the  list,  with 
orders  to  manage  the  business.  Of  individual  cases  we  learned 
nothing  :  only  I  heard  transiently,  that  the  farmer  of  one  of  our 
estates,  with  whom  my  uncle  had  long  exercised  patience,  was  at  last 
actually  to  be  ejected  ;  his  cautionary  pledge,  a  scanty  supplement  to 
the  produce  of  this  prosecution,  to  be  retained,  and  the  land  to  be  let 
to  some  other  person.  This  man  was  of  a  religious  turn  ;  but  not, 
like  others  of  his  sect  among  us,  shrewd  and  active  withal  ;  for  his 
piety  and  goodness  he  was  loved  by  his  neighbors,  but  at  the  same 
time  censured  for  his  weaknes  as  the  master  of  a  house.  After  the 
death  of  his  wife,  a  daughter,  whom  he  usually  named  the  nut-brown 
maid,  though  already  giving  promise  of  activity  and  resolution,  was 
still  too  young  for  taking  a  decisive  management :  in  short,  the  man 
went  back  in  his  affairs,  and  my  uncle's  indulgence  had  not  stayed 
the  sinking  of  his  fortune. 

"  I  had  my  journey  in  my  head,  and  could  not  quarrel  with  the 
means  for  accomplishing  it.  All  was  ready  :  packing  and  sorting 
went  forward  ;  every  moment  was  becoming  full  of  business.  One 
evening  I  was  strolling  through  the  park,  for  the  last  time,  to 
take  leave  of  my  familiar  trees  and  bushes,  when  all  at  once  Valerina 
stepped  into  my  way  ;  for  such  was  the  girl's  name,  the  other  was  but 
a  by-name,  occasioned  by  her  brown  complexion.  She  stepped  into 
my  way." 

Lenardo  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  considering.  "  How  is  this, 
then?  "  said  he  :  "  Was  her  name  really  Yalerina  ?  Yes,  surely,"  he 
continued  ;  "  but  the  by-name  was  more  common.  In  short,  the  brown 
maid  came  into  my  path,  and  pressiugly  entreated  me  to  speak  a  good 
word  for  her  father,  for  herself,  to  my  uncle.  Knowing  how  the 
matter  stood,  and  seeing  clearly  that  it  would  be  difficult,  nay,  im- 
possible, to  do  her  any  service  at  this  moment,  1  candidly  told  her  so, 
and  set  before  her  the  blameworthiness  of  her  father  in  an  unfavor- 
able light. 

' '  She  answered  this  with  so  much  clearness,  and  at  the  same  time 
with  so  much  filial  mitigation  and  love,  that  she  quite  gained  me  ; 
and,  had  it  been  my  own  money,  I  should  instantly  have  made  her 
happy  by  granting  her  request.  But  it  was  my  uncle's  income  ; 
these  were  his  arrangements,  his  orders  :  with  such  a  temper  as  his, 
to  attempt  altering  aught  that  had  been  done  was  hopeless.  From 
of  old,  I  had  looked  on  a  promise  as  in  the  highest  degree  sacred. 
Whoever  asked  anything  of  me  embarrassed  me.  I  had  so  accus- 
tomed myself  to  refuse,  that  I  did  not  even  promise  what  I  purposed 
to  perform.  This  habit  came  in  good  stead  in  the  present  instance. 
Her  arguments  turned  on  individuality  and  affection,  mine  on  duty 
and  reason  ;  and  I  will  not  deny  that  at  last  they  seemed  too  harsh, 
even  to  myself.  Already  we  had  more  than  once  repeated  our  topics 
without  convincing  one  another,  when  necessity  made  her  more  elo 


CHAPTER  Vin.  479 

quent :  the  inevitable  ruin  which  she  saw  before  her  pressed  tears  froni 
her  eyes.  Her  collected  manner  she  entirely  lost  ;  she  spoke  with 
vivacity,  with  emotion  ;  and  as  I  still  kept  up  a  show  of  coldness  and 
composure,  her  whole  soul  turned  itself  outwards.  I  wished  to  end  the 
scene  ;  but  all  at  once  she  was  lying  at  my  feet,  had  seized  my  hand, 
kissed  it,  and  was  looking  up  to  me,  so  good,  so  gentle,  with  such  sup- 
plicating loveliness,  that  in  the  haste  of  the  moment  I  forgot  myself. 
Hurriedly  I  said,  while  raising  her  from  her  kneeling  posture:  'I 
will  do  what  is  possible  :  compose  thyself,  my  child  ! '  and  so  turned 
into  a  side  path.  '  Do  Avhat  is  impossible  ! '  cried  she  after  me.  I 
now  knew  not  what  I  was  saying,  hut  answered  :  'I  ^vill,'  and  hesi- 
tated. '  Do  it  ! '  cried  she,  at  once  enlivened,  and  with  a  heavenly 
expression  of  hope.     I  waved  a  salutation  to  her,  and  hastened  away. 

"  To  my  uncle  I  did  not  mean  to  apply  directly  ;  for  I  knew  too 
well  that  with  him  it  was  vain  to  speak  about  the  partial,  when  his 
purpose  was  the  whole.  I  inquired  for  the  steward  ;  he  had  ridden 
off  to  a  distance  ;  visitors  came  in  the  evening,  friends  wishing  to  take 
leave  of  me.  They  supped  and  played  till  far  in  the  night.  They 
continued  next  day,  and  their  presence  effiaced  the  image  of  my  im- 
portunate petitioner.  The  steward  returned  ;  he  was  busier  and  more 
overloaded  than  ever.  All  were  asking  for  him  :  he  had  no  time  to 
hear  me.  However,  I  did  make  an  effort  to  detain  him  ;  but  scarcely 
had  I  named  that  pious  farmer,  when  he  eagerly  repelled  the  pro- 
posal. '  For  Heaven's  sake,  not  a  word  of  this  to  your  uncle,  if  you 
would  not  have  a  quarrel  with  him  ! '  The  day  of  my  departure  was 
fixed  ;  I  had  letters  to  write,  guests  to  receive,  visits  in  the  neighbor- 
hood to  pay.  My  servants  had  been  hitherto  sufficient  for  my  wants, 
but  were  nowise  adequate  to  forward  the  arrangements  of  a  distant 
journey.  All  lay  on  my  own  hands  ;  and  yet  when  the  steward 
appointed  me  an  hour  in  the  night  before  my  departure,  to  settle  our 
money  concerns,  I  neglected  not  again  to  solicit  him  for  Valerina's 
father. 

"  '  Dear  baron,'  said  the  unstable  man,  'how  can  such  a  thing  ever 
come  into  your  head?  To-day  already  I  have  had  a  hard  piece  of 
work  with  your  uncle  ;  for  the  sum  you  need  is  turning  out  to  be  far 
higher  than  we  reckoned  on.  This  is  natural  enough,  but  not  the  less 
perplexing.  To  the  old  gentleman  it  is  especially  unwelcome,  when 
a  business  seems  concluded,  and  yet  many  odds  and  ends  are  found 
straggling  afterit.  This  is  often  the  case  ;  and  I  and  the  rest  have 
to  take  the  brunt  of  it.  As  to  the  rigor  with  which  the  outstanding 
debts  were  to  be  gathered  in,  he  himself  laid  down  the  law  to  me  ; 
he  is  at  one  with  liimself  on  this  point,  and  it  would  be  no  easy  task 
to  move  him  to  indulgence.  Do  not  try  it,  I  beg  of  you  !  It  is  quite 
in  vain.' 

"  I  let  him  deter  me  from  my  attempt,  but  not  entirely.  I  pressed 
him,  since  the  execution  of  the  business  depended  on  himself,  to  act 
with  mildness  and  mercy.     He  promised  everything,  according  to  tlie 


480  MEI8TEB  '8  TEA  VEL8. 

fasliion  of  such  persons,  for  the  sake  of  momentary  peace.  He  got 
quit  of  me  ;  the  bustle,  the  hurry  of  business  increased  !  I  was  in 
my  carriage,  and  had  turned  my  back  on  all  home  concerns. 

"  A  keen  impression  is  like  any  other  wound  :  we  do  not  feel  it  in 
receiving  it.  Not  till  afterwards  does  it  begin  to  smart  and  gangrene. 
So  was  it  with  me  in  regard  to  this  occurrence  in  the  park.  When- 
ever I  was  solitary,  whenever  I  was  unemployed,  that  image  of  the 
enti'eating  maiden,  with  the  whole  accompaniment,  with  every  tree 
and  bush,  the  place  Avhere  she  knelt,  the  side  path  I  took  to  get  rid 
of  her,  the  whole  scene  rose  like  a  fresh  picture  before  my  soul.  It 
was  an  indestructible  impression,  which,  by  other  images  and  inter- 
ests, might  indeed  be  shaded  or  overhung,  but  never  obliterated. 
Still,  in  every  quiet  hour,  she  came  before  me  ;  and  the  longer  it 
lasted,  the  more  painful  did  I  feel  the  blame  which  I  had  incurred 
against  my  principles,  against  my  custom,  though  not  expressly,  only 
while  hesitating,  and  for  the  first  time  caught  in  such  a  perlexity. 

"I  failed  not  in  my  earliest  letters  to  inquire  of  our  steward  how 
the  business  had  turned.  He  answered  evasively.  Then  he  engaged 
to  explain  this  point ;  then  he  wrote  ambiguously  ;  at  last  he  became 
silent  altogether.  Distance  increased  ;  more  objects  came  between 
me  and  my  home  ;  I  was  called  to  many  new  observations,  many  new 
sympathies  ;  the  image  faded  away,  the  maiden  herself,  almost  to 
the  name.  The  remembrance  of  her  came  more  rarely  before  me  ; 
and,  my  whim  of  keeping  up  my  intercourse  with  home,  not  by  let- 
ters, but  by  tokens,  tended  gradually  to  make  my  previous  situation, 
with  all  its  circumstances,  nearly  vanish  from  my  mind.  Now, 
however,  when  I  am  again  returning  home,  when  I  am  purposing  to 
repay  my  family  with  interest  what  I  have  so  long  owed  it,  now  at 
last  this  strange  repentance,  strange  I  myself  must  call  it,  falls  on 
me  with  its  whole  weight.  The  form  of  the  maiden  brightens  up  with 
the  forms  of  my  relatives  ;  and  I  dread  nothing  more  deeply  than  to 
learn  that,  in  the  misery  into  which  I  drove  her,  she  has  sunk  to 
ruin  ;  for  my  negligence  appears  in  my  own  mind  an  abetting  of  her 
destruction,  a  furtherance  of  her  mournful  destiny.  A  thousand 
times  I  have  told  myself  that  this  feeling  was  at  bottom  but  a  weak- 
ness ;  that  my  early  adoption  of  the  principle,  never  to  promise,  had 
originated  in  my  fear  of  repentance,  not  in  any  noble  sentiment. 
And  now  it  seems  as  if  repentance,  which  I  had  Hed  from,  meant  to 
avenge  herself,  by  seizing  this  incident,  instead  of  hundreds,  to  pain 
me.  Yet  is  the  picture,  the  imagination  which  torments  me,  so 
agreeable  withal,  so  lovely,  that  I  like  to  linger  over  it.  And  when 
I  think  of  the  scene,  that  kiss  which  she  imprinted  on  my  hand,  still 
seems  to  burn  there." 

Lenardo  was  silent,  andWilhelm  answered  quickly  and  gayly  :  "  It 
appears,  then,  1  could  have  done  you  no  greater  service  than  by  that 
appendix  to  my  narrative  ;  as  we  often  find  in  the  postscript  the 
most   interesting   part   of   the   letter.     In   truth,    I   know   little   of 


CHAPTER  VIII  481 

Va]erina,  for  I  heard  of  her  only  in  passing  ;  but,  for  certain,  she  is 
the  wife  of  a  prosperous  land-owner,  and  lives  happily,  as  your  aunt 
assured  me,  on  taking  leave." 

"  liood,  and  well,"  said  Lenardo  :  "  now  there  is  nothing  to  detain 
me.  You  have  given  me  absolution  ;  let  us  now  to  my  friends,  who 
have  already  waited  for  me  too  long."  To  this  Wilhelm  answered  : 
"  Unhappily  I  cannot  attend  you  ;  for  a  strange  obligation  lies  on  me 
to  continue  nowhere  longer  than  three  days,  and  not  to  revisit  any 
place  in  less  than  a  year.  Pardon  me,  if  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  men- 
tion the  cause  of  this  singularity." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  Lenardo,  "  that  we  are  to  lose  you  so  soon  ; 
that  I  cannot,  in  my  turn  do  anything  for  you.  But  since  you  are 
already  in  the  way  of  showing  me  kindness,  you  might  make  me 
very  happy  if  you  pleased  to  visit  Valerina  ;  to  inform  yourself  ac- 
curately of  her  situation  ;  and  then  to  let  me  have,  in  writing  or  in 
speech  (a  place  of  meeting  might  easily  be  found),  express  intelli- 
gence for  my  complete  composure." 

This  proposal  was  farther  discussed  ;  Yalerina's  place  of  residence 
had  been  named  to  Wilhelm.  He  engaged  to  visit  her  ;  a  place  of 
meeting  was  appointed,  to  which  the  baron  should  come,  bringing 
Felix  with  him,  who,  in  the  meanwhile,  had  remained  with  the 
ladies. 

Lenardo  and  Wilhelm  had  proceeded  on  their  way  for  some  time, 
riding  together  through  pleasant  fields,  with  abundance  of  conversa- 
tion, when  at  last  they  approached  the  highway,  and  found  the 
baron's  coach  in  waiting,  now  ready  to  revisit  with  its  owner  the 
spot  it  had  left  three  years  before.  Here  the  friends  were  to  part  ; 
and  Wilhelm,  with  a  few  kindly  words,  took  his  leave,  again  prom- 
ising the  baron  speedy  news  of  Valerina. 

"Now  when  I  bethink  me,"  said  Lenardo,  "that  it  were  but  a 
small  circuit  if  I  accompanied  you,  why  should  I  not  visit  Valerina 
myself?  Why  not  witness  with  my  own  eyes  her  happy  situation  ? 
You  were  so  friendly  as  to  engage  to  be  my  messenger  ;  why  should 
you  not  be  my  companion  ?  For  some  companion  I  must  have,  some 
moral  counsel,  as  we  take  legal  counsel  to  assist  us,  when  we  think 
ourselves  inadequate  to  the  perplexities  of  a  process." 

Wilhelm's  objections,  that  the  friends  at  home  would  be  anxiously 
expecting  the  long-absent  traveler,  that  it  would  produce  a  strange 
impression  if  the  carriage  came  alone,  and  other  reasons  of  the  like 
sort,  had  no  weight  with  Lenardo  ;  and  Wilhelm  was  obliged  at  last  to 
resolve  on  acting  the  companion  to  the  baron  ;  a  task  on  which,  con- 
sidering the  consequences  that  might  be  apprehended,  he  entered 
with  no  great  alacrity. 

Accordingly  the  servants  were  instructed  what  to  say  oh  tbeir  arrival ; 

and  the  two  friends  now  took  the  road  for  Yalerina's  house.     The 

neighborhood  appeared  rich  and  fertile,  the  true  seat  of  agriculture. 

Especially  the  grounds  of  Yalerina's  husband  seemed  to  be  managed 

Meister — 16 


482  MEISTEB'S  TRAVELS. 

with  great  skill  and  care.  Willielm  had  leisure  to  survey  the  land- 
scape accurately,  while  Lenardo  rode  in  silence  beside  him.  At  last 
the  latter  said:  "Another  in  my  place  would  perhaps  try  to  meet 
Valeriua  undiscovered  ;  for  it  is  always  a  painful  feeling  to  appear 
before  those  whom  we  have  injured  ;  but  I  had  rather  front  this,  and 
bear  the  reproach  which  I  have  to  dread  from  her  first  look,  than 
secure  myself  from  it  by  disguise  and  untruth.  Untruth  may  bring 
us  into  embarrassment  quite  as  well  as  truth  ;  and  when  we  reckon 
up  how  often  the  former  or  the  latter  profits  us,  it  really  seems  most 
prudent,  once  for  all,  to  devote  ourselves  to  what  is  true.  Let  us  go 
forward,  therefore,  with  cheerful  minds  :  I  will  give  my  name,  and 
introduce  you  as  my  friend  and  fellow-traveler." 

They  had  now  reached  the  house,  and  dismounted  in  the  court.  A 
well-looking  man,  whom  you  might  have  taken  for  a  farmer,  came  out 
to  them,  and  announced  himself  as  master  of  the  family.  Lenardo 
named  himself,  and  the  landlord  seemed  highly  delighted  to  see  him, 
and  obtain  his  acquaintance.  "  What  will  my  wife  say,"  cried  he, 
"  when  she  again  meets  the  nephew  of  her  benefactor  !  She  never 
tires  of  recounting  and  reckoning  up  what  her  father  owes  your 
uncle." 

What  strange  thoughts  rushed  in  rapid  disorder  through  Lenardo's 
mind  !  "  Does  this  man,  who  looks  so  honest-minded,  hide  his  bitter- 
ness under  a  friendly  countenance  and  smooth  words  ?  Can  he  give 
his  reproaches  so  courteous  an  outside  ?  For  did  not  my  uncle  reduce 
that  family  to  misery  !  And  can  the  man  be  ignorant  of  this  ?  Or," 
so  thought  he  to  himself,  with  quick  hope,  "has  the  business  not 
been  so  bad  as  thou  supposest  ?  For  no  decisive  intelligence  has  ever 
yet  reached  thee."  Such  conjectures  alternated  this  way  and  that, 
while  the  landlord  was  ordering  out  his  carriage  to  bring  home  his 
wife ;  who,  it  appeared,  was  paying  a  visit  in  the  neighborhood. 

"If  in  the  meanwhile,  till  nay  wife  return,"  said  the  latter,  "I 
might  entertain  you  in  my  own  way,  and  at  the  same  time  carry  on 
my  duties,  say  you  walk  a  few  steps  with  me  into  the  fields,  and  look 
about  you  how  I  manage  my  husbandry  ;  for,  no  doubt,  to  you,  as  a 
great  proprietor  of  land,  there  is  nothing  of  more  near  concernment 
than  the  noble  science,  the  noble  art  of  agriculture." 

Lenardo  made  no  objection  ;  Wilhelm  liked  to  gather  information. 
The  landlord  had  his  ground,  which  he  possessed  and  ruled  without 
restriction,  under  the  most  perfect  treatment  ;  what  he  undertook 
was  adapted  to  his  purpose  ;  what  he  sowed  and  planted  was  always 
in  the  right  place  ;  and  he  could  so  clearly  explain  his  mode  of  pro- 
cedure, and  the  reasons  of  it,  that  every  one  comprehended  him,  and 
thought  it  possible  for  himself  to  do  the  same  ;  a  mistake  one  is  apt 
to  fall  into,  on  looking  at  a  master,  in  whose  hand  all  moves  as  it 
should  do. 

The  strangers  expressed  their  satisfaction,  and  had  nothing  but 
praise  and  approval  to  pronounce  on  everything  thej  saw.     He  re- 


CHAPTER  nil  483 

ceived  it  gratefully  and  kindly,  and  at  last  added  :  "  Now,  however,  I 
must  show  you  my  weak  side,  a  quality  discernible  in  every  one  that 
yields  himself  exclusively  to  one  pursuit."  He  led  them  to  his  court- 
yard, showed  them  his  implements,  his  store  of  these  ;  and  besides 
this,  a  store  of  all  imaginable  sorts  of  farm-gear,  with  its  appurte- 
nances, kept  by  way  of  specimen  :  "  I  am  often  blamed,"  said  he, 
"  for  going  too  far  in  this  matter  ;  but  I  cannot  quite  blame  myself. 
Happy  is  he  to  whom  his  business  itself  becomes  a  puppet,  who  at 
length  can  play  with  it,  and  amuse  himself  with  what  his  situation 
makes  his  duty." 

The  two  friends  were  not  behindhand  with  their  questions  and 
examinations.  Wilhelm,  in  particular,  delighted  in  the  general 
observations  which  this  man  appeared  to  have  a  turn  for  making  ;  and 
failed  not  to  answer  them  :  while  the  baron,  more  immersed  in  his 
own  thoughts,  took  silent  pleasure  in  the  happiness  of  Valerina, 
which,,  in  this  situation,  he  reckoned  sure  ;  yet  felt  underhand  a  cer- 
tain faint  shadow  of  dissatisfaction,  of  which  he  could  give  himself 
no  account. 

The  party  had  returned  within  doors,  when  the  lady's  carriage  drove 
up.  They  hastened  out  to  meet  her  ;  but  what  was  Lenardo's  amaze- 
ment, his  fright,  when  she  stepped  forth  ?  This  was  not  the  person  ; 
this  was  no  nut-brown  maid,  but  directly  the  reverse  ;  a  fair,  slim 
form,  in  truth  ;  but  light-haired,  and  possessing  all  the  charms  which 
belong  to  that  complexion. 

This  beauty,  this  grace  aifrighted  Lenardo.  His  eyes  had  sought 
the  brown  maiden  ;  now  quite  a  different  figure  glanced  before  them. 
These  features,  too,  he  recollected  ;  her  words,  her  manner,  soon  ban- 
ished all  uncertainty  :  it  was  the  daughter  of  the  lawyer,  a  man  who 
stood  in  high  favor  with  the  uncle  ;  for  which  reason  also  the  dowry 
had  been  so  handsome,  and  the  new  pair  so  generously  dealt  with. 
All  this,  and  mucli  more,  was  gayly  recounted  by  the  young  wife  as 
an  introductory  salutation,  and  with  such  a  joy  as  the  surprise  of  an 
unexpected  meeting  naturally  gives  rise  to.  The  question,  whether 
they  could  recognize  each  other,  was  mutually  put  and  answered  ; 
the  changes  in  look  were  talked  of,  which  in  persons  of  that  age 
are  found  notable  enough.  Valerina  was  at  all  times  agreeable  ;  but 
lovely  in  a  high  degree,  when  any  joyful  feeling  raised  her  above 
her  usual  level  of  indifference.  The  company  grew  talkative : 
the  conversation  became  so  lively  that  Lenardo  was  enabled  to  com- 
pose himself  and  hide  his  confusion.  Wilhelm,  to  whom  he  had  very 
soon  given  a  sign  of  this  strange  incident,  did  his  best  to  help  him  ; 
and  Valerina's  little  touch  of  vanity  in  thinking  that  the  baron,  even 
before  visiting  his  own  friends,  had  remembered  her,  and  come  to  see 
her,  excluded  any  shadow  of  suspicion  that  another  purpose  or  a  mis- 
conception could  be  concerned  in  the  affair. 

The  party  kept  together  till  a  late  liour,  though  the  two  friends 
■^vere  longing  for  a  confidential  dialogue  ;  which   accordingly  com- 


484  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

menced,  tlie  moment  tliey  were  left  alone  in  their  allotted  cham- 
bers. 

"It  appears,"  said  Lenardo,  "I  am  not  to  get  rid  of  this  secret 
pain.  A  luckless  confusion  of  names,  1  now  observe,  redoubles  it. 
This  fair-headed  beauty  I  have  often  seen  playing  with  the  brunette, 
who  could  not  be  called  a  beauty  ;  nay,  I  myself  have  often  run  about 
with  them  over  the  fields  and  gardens,  though  so  much  older  than 
they.  Neither  of  them  made  the  slightest  impression  on  riie  ;  I  have 
but  retained  the  name  of  the  one,  and  applied  it  to  the  other.  And 
now  her  who  does  not  concern  me,  I  find  happy  above  measure  in  her 
own  way  ;  while  the  other  is  cast  forth,  who  knows  whither,  into  the 
wide  world." 

Next  morning  the  friends  were  up  almost  sooner  than  their  active 
entertainers.  The  happiness  of  seeing  her  guests  had  also  awakened 
Valeriua  early.  She  little  fancied  with  what  feelings  they  came  to 
breakfast.  Wilhelm,  seeing  clearly  that,  without  some  tidings  of 
the  nut-brown  maid,  Lenardo  must  continue  in  a  painful  state,  led 
the  conversation  to  old  times,  to  playmates,  to  scenes  which  he  him- 
self knew,  and  other  such  recollections  ;  so  that  Valerina  soon  quite 
naturally  came  to  speak  of  the  nut-brown  maid,  and  to  mention  her 
name. 

No  sooner  did  Lenardo  hear  the  name  Nachodina,  than  he  perfectly 
remembered  it ;  but  with  the  name,  the  figure  also,  of  that  supplicant 
returned  to  him,  with  such  violence,  that  Valerina's  farther  narrative 
became  quite  agonizing  to  him,  as  with  warm  sympathy  she  proceeded 
to  describe  the  distrainment  of  the  pious  farmer,  his  submissive 
resignation  and  departure,  and  how  he  went  away  leaning  on  his 
daughter,  who  carried  a  little  bundle  in  her  hand.  Lenardo  was  like 
to  sink  under  the  earth.  Unhappily  and  happily,  she  went  into  a 
certain  circumstantiality  in  her  details  ;  which,  while  it  tortured  Le- 
nardo's  heart,  enabled  him  with  help  of  his  associate  to  put  on  some 
apjiearance  of  composure. 

']'he  travelers  departed,  amid  warm  sincere  invitations  on  the  part 
of  the  married  pair  to  return  soon,  and  a  faint  hollow  assent  on  their 
own  part.  And  as  a  person,  who  stands  in  any  favor  with  himself, 
takes  everything  in  a  favorable  light,  so  Valerina  explained  Lenar- 
do's  silence,  his  visible  confusion  in  taking  leave,  his  hasty  departure, 
entirely  to  her  own  advantage  ;  and  could  not,  although  the  faithful 
and  loving  wife  of  a  worthy  gentleman,  help  feeling  some  small  sat- 
isfaction at  this  re-awakening  or  incipient  inclination,  as  she  reckoned 
it,  of  her  former  landlord. 

After  this  strange  incident,  while  the  friends  were  proceeding  ot\ 
their  way,  Lenardo  thus  addressed  Wilhelm:  "For  our  shipwreck 
with  such  fair  hopes  at  the  very  entrance  of  the  haven,  I  can  still  con- 
sole myself  in  some  degree  for  the  moment,  and  go  calmly  to  meet 
my  people,  when  I  think  that  Heaven  has  brought  me  you, — you  tQ 
whom,  under  your  peculiar  mission,  it  is  indifferent  whither  or  how 


CHAPTER  nil.  485 

you  direct  your  path.  Engage  to  fiud  out  Nacliodina,  and  to  give  rae 
tidings  of  her.  If  she  be  happy,  then  am  I  content ;  if  unhappy, 
then  lielp  her  at  my  charges.  Act  without  reserve  ;  spare,  calculate 
nothing  !  I  shall  return  home,  shall  endeavor  to  get  intelligence, 
and  send  your  Felix  to  you  by  some  trusty  person.  Place  the  boy,  as 
your  intention  was,  where  many  of  his  equals  are  placed  :  it  is  almost 
indifferent  under  what  superintendence  ;  but  I  am  much  mistaken, 
if,  iu  the'neighborhood,  in  the  place  where  I  wish  you  to  wait  for 
your  son  and  his  attendant,  you  do  not  find  a  man  that  can  give  you 
the  best  counsel  on  this  point.  It  is  he  to  whom  I  owe  the  training  of 
my  youth,  whom  I  should  have  liked  so  much  to  take  along  with  me 
in  my  travels,  whom  at  least  I  should  many  a  time  have  wished  to 
meet  in  the  course  of  them,  had  he  not  already  devoted  himself  to  a 
quiet  domestic  life." 

The  friends  had  now  reached  the  spot  where  they  were  actually  to 
part.  While  the  hoj'ses  were  feeding,  the  baron  wrote  a  letter,  which 
Wilhelm  took  charge  of  ;  yet,  for  the  rest,  could  not  help  communi- 
cating his  scruples  to  Lenardo. 

"  In  my  present  situation,"  said  he,  "  I  reckon  it  a  desirable  com- 
mission to  deliver  a  generous  man  from  distress  of  mind,  and,  at  the 
same  time  to  free  a  human  creature  from  misery,  if  she  happen  to  bo 
miserable.  Such  an  object  one  may  look  upon  as  a  star,  towards 
which  one  sails,  not  knowing  what  awaits  him,  what  he  is  to  meet  by 
the  way.  Yet,  with  all  this,  I  must  not  be  blind  to  the  danger  which, 
in  every  case,  still  hovers  over  you.  Were  you  not  a  man  who  regu- 
larly avoid  engagements,  I  should  require  a  promise  from  you  not 
again  to  see  this  female,  who  has  come  to  be  so  precious  in  your  eyes  ; 
but  to  content  yourself,  when  I  announce  to  you  that  all  is  well  with 
her  ;  be  it  that  I  actually  find  her  happy,  or  am  enabled  to  make  her  so. 
But  having  neither  power  nor  wish  to  extort  a  promise  from  you,  I 
conjure  you  by  all  you  reckon  dear  and  sacred,  for  your  own  sake, 
for  that  of  your  kindred,  and  of  me  your  new-acquired  friend,  to 
allow  yourself  no  approximation  to  that  lost  maiden,  under  what  pre- 
text soever  ;  not  to  require  of  me  that  I  mention  or  describe  the  place 
where  I  find  her,  or  the  neighborhood  where  I  leave  her  ;  but  to 
believe  my  word  that  she  is  well,  and  be  enfranchised  and  at  peace." 

Lenardo  gave  a  smile,  and  answered  :  ' '  Perform  this  service  for 
me,  and  I  shall  be  grateful.  What  you  are  willing  and  able  to  do  I 
commit  to  your  own  hands  ;  and  for  myself,  leave  me  to  time,  to  com- 
mon sense,  and,  if  possible,  to  reason." 

"Pardon  me,"  answered  Wilhelm:  "but  whoever  knows  under 
what  strange  forms  love  glides  into  our  hearts,  cannot  but  be  appre- 
hensive, on  foreseeing  that  a  friend  may  come  to  entertain  wishes, 
which,  in  his  circumstances,  his  station,  would  of  necessity  produce 
unhappiness  and  perplexity." 

"  I  hope,"  said  Lenardo,  "  when  I  know  the  maiden  happy,  I  have 
done  with  her." 

The  friends  parted,  each  in  his  own  direction. 


486  MEISTEB'8  THAVELS, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

By  a  short  and  pleasant  road  Willielm  had  reached  the  town  to 
which  his  letter  was  directed.  He  found  it  gay  and  well  built  ;  but 
its  new  aspect  showed  too  clearly  that,  not  long  before,  it  must  have 
suffered  by  a  conflagration.  The  address  of  his  letter  led  him  into 
the  last  small  uninjured  portion  of  the  place,  to  a  house  of  ancient, 
earnest  architecture,  yet  well  kept,  and  of  a  tidy  look.  Dim  win- 
dows, strangely  fashioned,  indicated  an  exhilarating  pomp  of  colors 
from  within.  Nor,  in  fact,  did  the  interior  fail  to  correspond  with  the 
exterior.  In  clean  apartments,  everywhere  stood  furniture  which 
must  have  served  several  generations,  intermixed  with  very  little  that 
was  new.  The  master  of  the  house  received  our  traveler  kindly,  in  a 
little  chamber  similarly  fitted  up.  These  clocks  had  already  struck 
the  hour  of  many  a  birth  and  many  a  death  ;  everything  which  met 
the  eye  reminded  one  that  the  past  might,  as  it  were,  be  protracted 
into  the  present. 

The  stranger  delivered  his  letter  ;  but  the  landlord,  without  open- 
ing it,  laid  it  aside,  and  endeavored,  in  a  cheerful  conversation,  im- 
mediately to  get  acquainted  with  his  guest.  They  soon  grew  confi- 
dential ;  and  as  Wilhelm,  contrary  to  his  usual  habit,  let  his  eye 
wander  inquisitively  over  the  room,  the  good  old  man  said  to  him  : 
"  My  domestic  equipment  excites  your  attention.  You  here  see  how 
long  a  thing  may  last  ;  and  one  should  make  such  observations  now 
and  then,  by  way  of  counterbalance  to  so  much  in  the  world  that 
rapidly  changes  and  passes  away.  This  same  tea-kettle  served  my 
parents,  and  was  a  witness  of  our  evening  family  assemblages  ;  this 
copper  fire-screen  still  guards  me  from  the  fire,  which  these  stout  old 
tongs  still  help  me  to  mend  ;  and  so  it  is  with  all  throughout.  I  had 
it  in  my  power  to  bestow  my  care  and  industry  on  many  other  things, 
as  I  did  not  occupy  myself  with  changing  these  external  necessaries, 
a  task  which  consumes  so  many  people's  time  and  resources.  An 
affectionate  attention  to  what  we  possess  makes  rich,  for  thereby  we 
accumulate  a  treasure  of  remembrances  connected  with  indifferent 
things.  I  knew  a  young  man  who  got  a  common  pin  from  his  love, 
while  taking  leave  of  her  ;  daily  fastened  his  breast-frill  with  it,  and 
'  brought  back  this  guarded  and  not  unemployed  treasure  from  a  long 
journeying  of  several  years.  In  us  little  men,  such  little  things  are 
to  be  reckoned  virtue." 

"  Many  a  one  too,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "brings  back,  from  such 
long  and  far  travelings,  a  sharp  pricker  in  his  heart,  which  he  would 
fain  be  quit  of." 

The  old  man  seemed  to  know  nothing  of  Lenardo's  situation  though 
in  the  meanwhile  he  had  opened  the  letter  and  read  it  ;  for  he  re- 
turned to  his  former  topics. 


CHAPTER.  IX.  487 

"  Tenacity  of  our  possessions,"  continued  he,  "  in  many  cases  gives 
us  the  greatest  energy.  To  this  obstinacy  in  myself  I  owe  the  saving 
of  my  house.  When  the  town  was  on  fire,  some  people  wished  me  to 
begin  snatching  and  saving  here  too.  I  forbade  this  ;  bolted  my  doors 
and  windows  ;  and  turned  out,  with  several  neighbors,  to  oppose  the 
flames.  Our  eiforts  succeeded  in  preserving  this  summit  of  the  town. 
Next  morning  all  was  standing  here  as  you  now  see  it,  and  as  it  has 
stood  for  almost  a  hundred  years." 

"  Yet  you  will  confess,"  said  Wilhelm,  "that  no  man  withstands 
the  change  which  time  produces."  ^ 

"  That,  in  truth  !"  said  the  other  ;  "  but  he  who  holds  out  longest 
has  still  done  something. 

"  Yes  !  even  beyond  the  limits  of  our  being  we  are  able  to  main- 
tain and  secure  :  we  transmit  discoveries,  we  hand  down  sentiments, 
as  well  as  property  ;  and  as  the  latter  was  my  chief  province,  I  have 
for  a  long  time  exercised  the  strictest  foresight,  invented  the  most 
peculiar  precautions  ;  yet  not  till  lately  have  I  succeeded  in  seeing  my 
wish  fulfilled. 

"  Commonly  the  son  disperses  what  the  father  has  collected,  col- 
lects something  different,  or  in  a  different  way.  Yet  if  we  can  wait 
for  the  grandson,  for  the  new  generation,  we  find  the  same  tenden- 
cies, the  same  tastes,  again  making  their  appearance.  And  so  at  last, 
by  the  care  of  our  pedagogic  friends,  I  have  found  an  active  youth, 
who,  if  possible,  pays  more  regard  to  old  posses.siou  than  even  I,  and 
has  withal  a  vehement  attachment  to  every  sort  of  curiosities.  My 
decided  confidence  he  gained  by  the  violent  exertions,  with  which  he 
struggled  to  keep  off  the  fire  from  our  dwelling.  Doubly  and  trebly 
has  he  merited  the  treasure  which  I  mean  to  leave  him  :  nay,  it  is 
already  given  into  his  hands  ;  and  ever  since  that  time,  our  store 
is  increasing  in  a  wonderful  way. 

"  Not  all,  however,  that  you  see  here  is  ours.  On  the  contrary,  as 
in  the  hands  of  pawnbrokers  you  find  many  a  foreign  jewel,  so  with 
us  I  can  show  you  precious  articles,  which  people,  under  the  most 
various  circumstances,  have  deposited  with  us  for  the  sake  of  better 
keeping." 

Wilhelm  recollected  the  beautiful  box,  which,  at  any  rate,  he  did  not 
like  to  carry  with  him  in  his  wanderings  ;  and  showed  it  to  his  land- 
lord. The  old  man  viewed  it  with  attention  ;  gaVe  the  date  when  it 
was  probably  made  ;  and  showed  some  similar  things.  Wilhehn 
asked  him  if  he  thought  it  should  be  opened.  The  old  man  thought 
not.  "  I  believe,  indeed,"  said  he,  "  it  could  be  done,  without  special 
harm  to  the  casket  ;  but  as  you  found  it  in  .so  singular  a  way,  you 
must  try  your  luck  on  it.  For  if  you  are  born  lucky,  and  this  little 
box  is  of  any  consequence,  the  key  will  doubtless  by  and  by  be  found, 
and  in  the  very  place  where  you  are  least  expecting  it." 

"  There  have  been  such  occurrences,"  said  Wilhelm. 

"I  have  myself  experienced  such,"  replied  the  old  man;  "and 


488  MEISTEB'S  TRAVELS. 

here  you  beliold  tlie  strangest  of  them.  Of  this  ivory  crucifix  I  have 
liad,  for  thirty  years,  the  body  with  the  head  and  feet,  in  one  place. 
For  its  own  nature,  as  well  as  for  the  glorious  art  displayed  in  it,  I 
kept  the  figure  laid  up  in  my  most  private  drawer  ;  nearly  ten  years 
ago  I  got  the  cross  belonging  to  it,  with  the  inscription,  and  was  then 
induced  to  have  the  arms  supplied  by  the  best  carver  of  our  day. 
Far,  indeed,  was  this  expert  artist  from  equaling  his  predecessor  ; 
yet  I  let  his  work  pass,  more  for  devout  purposes,  than  for  any 
admiration  of  its  excellence. 

"  Now  conceive  my  delight  !  A  little  while  ago  the  original  genuine 
arms  were  sent  me,  as  you  see  them  here  united  in  the  loveliest  har- 
mony ;  and  I,  charmed  at  so  happy  a  coincidence,  cannot  help  recog- 
nizing in  this  crucifix  the  fortunes  of  the  Christian  religion,  which, 
often  enough  dismembered  and  scattered  abroad,  will  ever  in  the  end 
again  gather  itself  together  at  the  foot  of  the  cross." 

Wilhelm  admired  the  figure,  and  its  strange  combination.  "I  will 
follow  your  counsel,"  added  he  ;  "let  the  casket  continue  locked  till 
the  key  of  it  be  found,  though  it  should  lie  till  the  end  of  my  life. " 

"  One  who  lives  long,"  said  the  old  man,  "  sees  much  collected  and 
much  cast  assunder." 

The  young  partner  in  the  house  now  chanced  to  enter,  and  Wilhelm 
signified  his  purpose  of  intrusting  the  box  to  their  keeping.  A  large 
book  was  thereupon  produced,  the  deposit  inscribed  in  it,  with  many 
ceremonies  and  stipulations ;  a  receipt  granted,  which  applied  in 
words  to  any  bearer,  but  was  only  to  be  honored  on  the  giving  of  a 
certain  token  agreed  upon  with  the  owner. 

So  passed  their  hours  in  instructive  and  entertaining  conversation, 
till  at  last  Felix,  mounted  on  a  gay  pony,  arrived  in  safety.  A  groom 
had  accompanied  him,  and  was  now  for  some  time  to  attend  and  serve 
Wilhelm.  A  letter  from  Lenardo,  delivered  at  the  same  time,  com- 
plained that  he  could  find  no  vestige  of  the  nut-brown  maid ;  and 
Wilhelm  was  anew  conjured  to  do  his  utmost  in  searching  her  out. 
Wilhelm  imparted  the  matter  to  his  landlord.  The  latter  smiled, 
and  said  :  "  We  must  certainly  make  every  exertion,  for  our  friend's 
sake  ;  perhaps  I  may  succeed  in  learning  something  of  her.  As  I 
keep  these  old  primitive  household  goods,  so  likewise  have  I  kept 
some  old  primitive  friends.  You  tell  me  that  this  maiden's  father 
was  distinguished  by  his  piety.  The  pious  have  a  more  intimate 
connection  with  each  other  than  the  wicked  ;  though  externally  it 
may  not  always  prosper  so  well.  By  this  means  I  hope  to  obtain 
some  traces  of  what  you  are  sent  to  seek.  But,  as  a  preparative,  do 
you  now  pursue  the  resolution  of  placing  your  Felix  among  his 
equals  and  turning  him  to  some  fixed  department  of  activity.  Has- 
ten with  him  to  the  great  institution.  I  will  point  out  the  way  you 
must  follow  in  order  to  find  the  chief,  who  resides  now  in  one,  now 
in  another  division  of  his  province.  You  shall  have  a  letter,  with 
my  best  advice  and  direction." 


CHAPTER  X.  489 


CHAPTER  X. 


The  pilgrims,  pursuing  the  way  pointed  out  to  tliem,  had,  without 
diflBculty,  reached  the  limits  of  the  province,  where  they  were  to  see 
so  many  singularities.  At  the  very  entrance,  they  found  themselves 
in  a  district  of  extreme  fertility  ;  in  its  soft  knolls,  favorable  to  crops  ; 
in  its  higher  hills,  to  sheep  husbandry  ;  in  its  wide  bottoms,  to  graz- 
ing. Harvest  was  near  at  hand,  and  all  was  in  the  richest  luxuriance  ; 
yet  what  most  surprised  our  travelers  was,  that  they  observed  neither 
men  nor  women  ;  but  in  all  quarters  boys  and  youths,  engaged  in 
preparing  for  a  happy  harvest,  nay,  already  making  arrangements  for 
a  merry  harvest-home.  Our  travelers  saluted  several  of  them,  and 
inquired  for  the  chief,  of  whose  abode,  however,  they  could  gain  no 
intelligence.  The  address  of  their  letter  was  :  To  the  Chief,  or  the 
Three.  Of  this  also  the  boys  could  make  nothing  ;  however,  they 
referred  the  strangers  to  an  overseer,  who  was  just  about  mounting 
his  horse  to  ride  off.  Our  friends  disclosed  their  object  to  this  man  : 
the  frank  liveliness  of  Felix  seemed  to  please  him,  and  so  they  all 
rode  along  together. 

Wilhelni  had  already  noticed,  that  in  the  cut  and  color  of  the 
young  people's  clothes  a  variety  prevailed,  which  gave  the  whole 
tiny  population  a  peculiar  aspect ;  he  was  just  about  to  question  his 
attendant  on  this  point,  when  a  still  stranger  observation  forced  itself 
upon  him  ;  all  the  children,  how  employed  soever,  laid  down  their 
work,  and  turned  with  singular,  yet  diverse  gestures,  towards  the 
party  riding  past  them  ;  or  rather,  as  it  was  easy  to  infer,  towards 
the  overseer,  who  was  in  it.  The  youngest  laid  their  arms  crosswise 
over  their  breasts,  and  looked  cheerfully  up  to  the  sky  ;  those  of 
middle  size  held  their  hands  on  their  backs,  and  looked  smiling  on 
the  ground  ;  the  eldest  stood  with  a  frank  and  spirited  air  ;  their 
arms  stretched  down,  they  turned  their  heads  to  the  right,  and 
formed  themselves  into  a  line  ;  whereas  the  others  kept  separate, 
each  where  he  chanced  to  be. 

The  riders  having  stopped  and  dismounted  here,  as  several  chil- 
dren, in  their  various  modes,  were  standing  forth  to  be  inspected  by 
the  overseer,  Wilhelm  asked  the  meaning  of  these  gestures  ;  but 
Felix  struck  in,  and  cried  gayly  :  "  What  posture  am  1  to  take, 
then  ?  •' 

"Without  doubt,"  said  the  overseer,  "as  the  first  posture:  the 
arms  over  the  breast,  the  face  earnest  and  cheerful  towards  the  sky.'* 

Felix  obeyed,  but  soon  cried  :  "  This  is  not  much  to  my  taste  ;  I 
see  nothing  up  there  :  does  it  last  long  ?  But  yes  !  "  exclaimed  he 
joy  full)',  "yonder  are  a  pair  of  falcons  flying  from  the  west  to  the 
east ;  that  is  a  good  sign  too  !  " 


490  MEISTEB'8  TRAVELS. 

"  As  thou  takest  it,  as  thou  beliavest,"  said  the  other  ;  "  now  min- 
gle among  them,  as  they  mingle."  He  gave  a  signal,  and  the  chil- 
dren left  their  postures,  and  again  betook  them  to  work,  or  sport,  as 
before. 

"  Are  you  at  liberty,"  said  Wilhelm  then,  "to  explain  this  sight 
which  surprises  me  ?  I  easily  perceive  that  these  positions,  these 
gestures,  are  salutions  directed  to  you." 

"  Just  so,"  replied  the  overseer  ;  "  salutations  which  at  once  indi- 
cate in  what  degree  of  culture  each  of  these  boys  is  standing." 

"But  can  you  explain  to  me  the  meaning  of  this  gradation?" 
inquired  Wilhelm  ;  "  for  that  there  is  one  is  clear  enough." 

"  This  belongs  to  a  higher  quarter,"  said  the  other  :  "  so  much, 
however,  I  may  tell  you,  that  these  ceremonies  are  not  mere  grim- 
aces ;  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  import  of  tliem,  not  the  highest,  but 
still  a  directing,  intelligible  import,  is  communicated  to  the  children  ; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  each  is  enjoined  to  retain  and  consider  for 
himself  whatever  explanation  it  has  been  thought  meet  to  give  him  ; 
they  are  not  allowed  to  talk  of  these  things,  either  to  strangers  or 
among  themselves  ;  and  thus  their  instruction  is  modified  in  many 
ways.  Besides,  secrecy  itself  has  many  advantages  ;  for  when  you 
tell  a  man  at  once  and  straightforward  the  purpose  of  any  object,  he 
fancies  there  is  nothing  in  it.  Certain  secrets,  even  if  known  to 
every  one,  men  find  that  they  must  still  reverence  by  concealment 
and  silence,  for  this  works  on  modesty  and  good  morals." 

"I  understand  you,"  answered  Wilhelm  ;  "  why  should  not  the 
principle  which  is  so  necessary  in  material  things,  be  applied  to 
spiritual  also  ?  But  perhaps,  in  another  point,  you  can  satisfy  my 
curiosity.  The  great  variety  of  shape  and  color  in  these  children's 
clothes  attracts  my  notice  ;  and  yet  I  do  not  see  all  sorts  of  colors, 
but  a  few  in  all  their  shades,  from  the  lightest  to  the  deepest.  At 
the  same  time,  I  observe  that  by  this  no  designation  of  degrees  in 
age  or  merit  can  be  intended  ;  for  the  oldest  and  youngest  boys  may 
be  alike  in  both  in  cut  and  color,  while  those  of  similar  gestures 
are  not  similar  in  dress." 

"On  this  matter  also,"  said  the  other,  "silence  is  prescribed  to 
me  ;  but  I  am  much  mistaken,  or  you  will  not  leave  us  without  re- 
ceiving all  the  information  you  desire." 

Our  party  continued  following  the  trace  of  the  chief,  which  they 
believed  themselves  to  be  upon.  But  now  the  strangers  could  not 
fail  to  notice,  with  new  surprise,  that  the  farther  they  advanced  into 
the  district,  a  vocal  melody  more  and  more  frequently  sounded  to- 
wards them  from  the  fields.  Whatever  the  boys  might  be  engaged 
with,  whatever  labor  they  were  carrying  on,  they  accompanied  it 
with  singing  ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  songs  were  specially  adapted 
to  their  various  sorts  of  occupation,  and  in  similar  cases  everywhere 
the  same.  If  there  chanced  to  be  several  children  in  company,  they 
sang  together  in    alternating  parts.     Towards  evening,   appeared 


CHAPTER  X.  491 

dancers  likewise,  whose  steps  were  enlivened  and  directed  by  cho- 
ruses. Felix  struck  in  with  them,  not  altogether  unsuccessfully, 
from  horseback,  as  he  passed  ;  and  Wilhelni  felt  gratified  in  this 
amusement,  which  gave  new  life  to  the  scene. 

"  Apparently,"  he  said  to  his  companion,  "you  devote  considerable 
care  to  this  branch  of  instruction  ;  the  accomplishment,  otherwise, 
could  not  be  so  widely  diffused,  aiid  so  completely  practiced." 

"  We  do,"  replied  the  other.  V'On  our  plan,  song  is  the  first  step 
in  education  ;  all  the  rest  are  connected  with  it,  and  attained  by  means 
of  it.  The  simplest  enjoyment,  as  well  as  the  simplest  instruction, 
we  enliven  and  impress  by  song  ;  nay,  even  what  religious  and  moral 
principles  we  lay  before  our  children,  are  communicated  in  the  way 
of  song.  Other  advantages  for  the  excitement  of  activity  spontane- 
ously arise  from  this  practice  ;  for,  in  accustoming  the  children  to 
write  the  tones  they  are  to  utter,  in  musical  characters,  and  as  occa- 
sion serves,  again  to  seek  these  characters  in  the  utterance  of  their  own 
voice  ;  and  besides  this,  to  subjoin  the  text  below  the  notes,  they  are 
forced  to  practice  hand,  ear  and  eye  at  once,  whereby  they  acquire  the 
art  of  penmanship  sooner  than  you  would  expect  ;  and  as  all  this,  in 
the  long  run,  is  to  be  effected  by  copying  precise  measurements  and 
accurately  settled  numbers,  they  come  to  conceive  the  high  value  of 
mensuration  and  arithmetic  much  sooner  than  in  any  other  way. 
Among  all  imaginable  things,  accordingly,  we  have  selected  music  as 
the  element. of  our  teaching;  for  level  roads  run  out  from  music 
towards  every  side." 

Wilhelm  endeavored  to  obtain  still  farther  information,  and  ex- 
pressed his  surprise  at  hearing  no  instrumental  music.  "  This  is  by 
no  means  neglected  here,"  said  the  other  ;  "  but  practiced  in  a  pecu- 
liar district,  one  of  the  most  pleasant  valleys  among  the  mountains  ; 
and  there  again  we  have  arranged  it  so  that  the  different  instruments 
shall  be  taught  in  separate  places.  The  discords  of  beginners,  in  par- 
ticular, are  banished  into  certain  solitudes,  where  they  can  drive  no 
one  to  despair ;  for  you  will  confess  that  in  well-regulated  civil 
.society  there  is  scarcely  a  more  melancholy  suffering  to  be  undergone 
than  what  is  forced  on  us  by  the  neighborhood  of  an  incipient  player 
on  the  flute  or  violin. 

"  Our  learners,  out  of  a  laudable  desire  to  be  troublesome  to  no  one, 
go  forth  of  their  own  accord,  for  a  longer  or  a  shorter  time,  into  the 
wastes,  and  strive  in  their  seclusion  to  attain  the  merit  which  shall 
again  admit  them  into  the  inhabited  world.  Each  of  them,  from  time 
to  time,  is  allowed  to  venture  an  attempt  for  admission,  and  the  trial 
seldom  fails  of  success  ;  for  bashfulness  and  modesty,  in  this,  as  in 
all  other  parts  of  our  system,  we  strongly  endeavor  to  maintain  and 
cherish.  That  your  son  has  a  good  voice,  I  am  glad  to  observe  ;  all 
the  rest  is  managed  with  so  much  the  greater  ease." 

They  had  now  reached  a  place  where  Felix  was  to  stop,  and  make 
trial  of  its  arrangements,  till  a  formal  reception  should  be  granted 


493  MEISTSB'S  TRAVELS. 

hini.  From  a  distance  they  liad  been  saluted  by  a  jocund  sound  of 
music  ;  it  was  a  game  in  wliicli  the  boys  were,  for  the  present,  amus- 
ing themselves  in  their  hour  of  play.  A  general  chorus  mounted  up  ; 
each  individual  of  a  wide  circle  striking  in  at  his  time,  with  a  joyful, 
clear,  firm  tone,  as  the  sign  was  given  him  by  the  overseer.  The  lat- 
ter more  than  once  took  the  singers  by  surprise,  when  at  a  signal  he 
suspended  the  choral  song,  and  called  on  any  single  boy,  touching 
him  with  his  rod,  to  catch  by  himself  the  expiring  tone,  and  adapt  to 
it  a  suitable  song,  fitted  also  to  the  spirit  of  what  had  preceded.  Most 
part  showed  great  dexterity  ;  a  few,  who  failed  in  this  feat,  willingly 
gave  in  their  pledges,  without  altogether  being  laughed  at  for  their 
ill-success.  Felix  was  child  enough  to  mix  among  them  instantly  ; 
and  in  his  new  task  he  acquitted  himself  tolerably  well.  The  first 
salutation  was  then  enjoined  on  him  :  he  directly  laid  his  hands  on 
his  breast,  looked  upwards,  and  truly  with  so  roguish  a  countenance, 
that  it  was  easy  to  observe  no  secret  meaning  had  yet  in  his  mind 
attached  itself  to  this  posture. 

The  delightful  spot,  his  kind  reception,  the  merry  playmates,  all 
pleased  the  boy  so  well,  that  he  felt  no  very  deep  sorrow  as  his  father 
moved  away  ;  the  departure  of  the  ])ony  was  perhaps  a  heavier  mat- 
ter ;  but  he  yielded  here  also,  on  learning  that  in  this  circle  it  could 
not  possibly  be  kept ;  and  the  overseer  promised  him,  in  compensa- 
tion, that  he  should  find  another  horse,  as  smart  and  well-broken,  at 
a  time  when  he  was  not  expecting  it. 

As  the  chief,  it  appeared,  was  not  to  be  come  at,  the  overseer 
turned  to  Willhem  and  said  :  "  I  must  now  leave  you,  to  pursue  my 
occupations  ;  but  first  I  will  bring  you  to  the  Three,  who  preside  over 
our  sacred  things.  Your  letter  is  addressed  to  them  likewise,  and 
they  together  represent  the  chief."  Wilhelm  could  have  wished  to 
gain  some  previous  knowledge  of  these  sacred  things,  but  his  com- 
panion answered  :  "  The  Three  will  doubtless,  in  return  for  the  con- 
fidence you  show  in  leaving  us  your  son,  disclose  to  you  in  their 
wisdom  and  fairness  what  is  most  needful  for  you  to  learn.  The  visi- 
ble objects  of  reverence,  which  I  named  sacred  things,  are  collected  in 
this  separate  circle  ;  are  mixed  with  nothing,  interfered  with  by  noth- 
ing :  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year  only  are  our  pupils  admitted  here, 
to  be  taught  in  their  various  degrees  of  culture,  by  historical  and 
sensible  means  ;  and  in  these  short  intervals  they  carry  off  a  deep 
enough  impression  to  suffice  them  for  a  time,  during  the  performance 
of  their  other  duties." 

Wilhelm  had  now  reached  the  gate  of  a  wooded  vale,  surrounded 
with  high  walls  :  on  a  certain  sign  the  little  door  opened,  and  a  man 
of  earnest  and  imposing  look  received  our  traveler.  The  latter  found 
himself  in  a  large  beautifully  umbrageous  space,  decked  with  the 
richest  foliage,  shaded  with  trees  and  bushes  of  all  sorts  ;  while 
stately  walls  and  magnificent  buildings  were  discerned  only  in 
glimpses  through  this  thick  natural  boscage.     A  friendly  reception 


CHAPTER  X.  m 

from  tiie  Three,  who  by  and  by  appeared,  at  last  turned  into  a  general 
conversation,  the  substance  of  which  we  now  present  in  an  abbrevi- 
ated shape. 

"  Since  you  intrust  your  son  to  us,"  said  they,  "it  is  fair  that  we 
admit  you  to  a  closer  view  of  our  procedure.  Of  what  is  external 
you  have  seen  much  that  does  not  bear  its  meaning  on  its  front.- 
What  part  of  this  do  you  chiefly  wish  to  have  explained  ?  " 

"Dignified,  yet  singular  gestures  of  salutation  I  have  noticed,  the 
import  of  which  I  would  gladly  learn  :  with  you,  doubtless,  the  exte- 
rior has  a  reference  to  the  interior,  and  inversely  ;  let  me  know  what 
this  reference  is." 

"  Well-formed,  healthy  children,"  replied  the  Three,  "  bring  much 
into  the  world  along  with  them.  Nature  has  given  to  each  whatever 
he  requires  for  time  and  duration  ;  to  unfold  this  is  our  duty  :  often 
it  unfolds  itself  better  of  its  own  accord.  One  thing  there  is,  how- 
ever, which  no  child  brings  into  the  world  with  him  ;  and  yet  it  is  on 
this  one  thing  that  all  depends  for  making  man  in  every  point  a  man. 
If  you  can  discover  it  yourself,  speak  it  out."  Wilhelm  thought  a 
little  while,  then  shook  his  head. 

The  Three,  after  a  suitable  pause,  exclaimed  :  Reverence  !  Wil- 
helm seemed  to  hesitate.  "  Reverence  I  "  cried  they  a  second  time. 
"  All  want  it,  perhaps  you  yourself. 

"  Three  kinds  of  gestures  you  have  seen  ;  and  we  inculcate  a  three- 
fold reverence,  which,  when  commingled  and  formed  into  one  whole 
attains  its  highest  force  and  effect.  The  first  is  reverence  for  what  is 
above  us.  That  posture,  the  arms  crossed  over  the  breast,  the  looli 
turned  joyfully  towards  heaven  :  that  is  what  we  have  enjoined  on 
young  children  ;  requiring  from  them  thereby  a  testimony  that  there  is 
a  God  above,  who  images  and  reveals  himself  in  parents,  teachers 
superiors.  Then  comes  the  second  :  reverence  for  what  is  under  us. 
Those  hands  folded  over  the  back,  and,  as  it  were,  tied  together,  that 
down-turned  smiling  look,  announce  that  we  are  to  regard  the  earth 
with  attention  and  cheerfulness  :  from  the  bounty  of  the  earth  we 
are  nourished  :  the  earth  affords  unutterable  joys  ;  but  dispropor- 
tionate sorrows  she  also  brings  us.  Should  one  of  our  children  do 
himself  external  hurt,  blamably  or  blamelessly  ;  should  others  hurt 
him  accidentally  or  purposely  ;  should  dead  involuntary  matter  do 
him  hurt  ;  then  let  him  well  consider  it  ;  for  such  dangers  will 
attend  him  all  his  days.  But  from  this  posture  we  delay  not  to  free 
our  pupil,  the  instant  we  become  convinced  that  the  instruction  con- 
nected with  it  has  produced  sufficient  influence  on  him.  Then,  on 
the  contrary,  we  bid  him  gather  courage,  and  turning  to  his  comrades, 
range  himself  along  with  them.  Now,  at  last,  he  stands  forth,  frank 
and  bold  ;  not  selfishly  isolated ;  only  in  combination  with  his  equals 
does -he  front  the  world.     Farther  we  have  nothing  to  add." 

"I  see  a  glimpse  of  it  !"  said  Wilhelm.  "Are  not  the  mass  of 
men  so  marred  and  stinted,  because  they  take  pleasure  only  in  the 


494  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

element  of  evil-wisliing  and  evil-speaking?  Whoever  gives  himself 
to  this,  soon  comes  to  be  indifferent  towards  God,  contemptuous  to- 
wards the  world,  spiteful  towards  his  equals  ;  and  the  true,  genuine, 
indispensable  sentiment  of  self-estimation  corrupts  into  self-conceit 
and  presumption.  Allow  me,  however,"  continued  he,  "  to  state  one 
difficulty.  You  say  that  reverence  is  not  natural  to  man  ;  now,. has 
not  the  feverence  or  fear  of  rude  people  for  violent  convulsions  of 
nature,  or  other  inexplicable  mysteriously-foreboding  occurrences, 
been  heretofore  regarded  as  the  germ  out  of  which  a  higher  feeling, 
a  purer  sentiment,  was  by  degrees  to  be  developed  ?  " 

"  Nature  is  indeed  adequate  to  fear,"  replied  they  ;  "  but  to  rever- 
ence not  adequate.  Men  fear  a  known  or  unknown  powerful  being  ; 
the  strong  seeks  to  conquer  it,  the  weak  to  avoid  it  ;  both  endeavor 
to  get  quit  of  it,  and  feel  themselves  happy  when  for  a  short  season 
they  have  put  it  aside,  and  their  nature  has  in  some  degree  restored 
itself  to  freedom  and  independence.  The  natural  man  repeats  this 
operation  millions  of  times  in  the  course  of  his  life  ;  from  fear  he 
struggles  to  freedom  ;  from  freedom  he  is  driven  back  to  fear,  and  so 
makes  no  advancement.  To  fear  is  easy,  but  grievous  ;  to  reverence 
is  difficult,  but  satisfactory.  Man  does  not  willingly  submit  himself 
to  reverence  ;  or  rather  he  never  so  submits  himself  ;  it  is  a  higher 
sense,  which  must  be  communicated  to  his  nature  ;  which  only  in  some, 
peculiarly  favored  individuals  unfolds  itself  spontaneously,  who  on 
this  account  too  have  of  old  been  loolied  upon  as  saints  and  gods. 
Here  lies  the  worth,  here  lies  the  business  of  all  true  religions  ; 
whereof  there  are  likewise  only  three,  according  to  the  objects  towards 
which  they  direct  our  devotion." 

The  men  paused  ;  Wilhelm  reflected  for  a  time  in  silence  ;  but 
feeling  in  himself  no  pretension  to  unfold  the  meaning  of  these 
strange  words,  he  requested  the  sages  to  proceed  with  their  exposi- 
tion. They  immediately  complied.  "No  religion  that  grounds  itself 
on  fear,"  said  they,  "  is  regarded  among  us.  With  the  reverence,  to 
which  a  man  should  give  dominion  in  his  mind,  he  can,  in  paying 
honor,  keep  his  ovjin  honor  ;  he  is  not  disunited  with  himself,  as  in 
the  former  case.  T  The  religion  which  depends  on  reverence  for  what 
is  above  us,  we  denominate  the  Ethnic  ;  it  is  the  religion  of  the  na- 
tions, and  the  first  happy  deliverance  from  a  degrading  fear;  all 
heathen  religions,  as  we  call  them,  are  of  this  sort,  whatsoever  names 
they  may  bear.  The  second  religion,  which  founds  itself  on  rever- 
ence for  what  is  around  us,  we  denominate  the  Philosophical  ;  for  the 
philosopher  stations  himself  in  tlie  middle,  and  must  draw  down  to 
him  all  that  is  higher,  and  up  to  him  all  that  is  lower,  and  only  in 
this  medium  condition  does  he  merit  the  title  of  wise.  Here,  as  he 
surveys  with  clear  sight  his  relation  to  his  equals,  and  therefore  to 
the  whole  human  race  ;  his  relation  likewise  to  all  other  earthly  cir- 
cumstances and  arrangements  necessary  or  accidental,  he  alone,  in  a 
cosmic  sense,  lives  iu  truth.     But  now  we  have  to  speak  of  the  third 


CHAPTER  X.  496 

religion,  grounded  on  reverence  for  what  is  beneath  us  ;  this  we 
name  the  Christian,  as  in  the  Christian  religion  such  a  temper  is  with 
most  distinctness  manifested  ;  it  is  a  last  step  to  which  mankind 
were  fitted  and  destined  to  attain.  But  what  a  task  was  it,  not  only 
to  be  patient  with  the  earth,  and  let  it  lie  Ijeneath  us,  we  appealing 
to  a  higher  birthplace  ;  but  also  to  recognize  humility  and  poverty, 
mockery  and  despite,  disgrace  and  wretcliedness,  suffering  and  death, 
to  recognize  these  things  as  divine  ;  nay,  even  on  sin  ami  crime  to 
look  not  as  hindrances,  ))ut  to  honor  and  love  them  as  furtherances, 
of  what  is  holy.  Of  this,  indeed,  we  find  some  traces  in  all  ages  ;  but 
the  trace  is  not  the  goal  ;  and  this  being  now  attained,  the  human 
species  cannot  retrograde  ;  and  we  may  say,  that  the  Christian  religion 
having  once  appeared,  cannot  again  vanish  ;  having  once  assumed  its 
divine  shape,  can  be  subject  to  no  dissolution."  J 

"To  which  of  these  religions  do  you  specTsny  adhere?"  inquired 
Wilhelm. 

"  To  all  the  three,"  replied  they  ;  "  for  in  their  union  they  produce 
what  may  properly  be  called  the  true  religion.  Out  of  those  three 
reverences  springs  the  highest  reverence,  reverence  for  one's  self, 
and  those  again  unfold  themselves  from  this  ;  so  that  man  attains 
the  highest  elevation  of  which  he  is  capable,  that  of  being  justified 
in  reckoning  himself  the  best  that  God  and  Nature  have  produced  ; 
nay,  of  being  able  to  continue  on  this  lofty  eminence,  without  being 
again  by  self-conceit  and  presumption  drawn  down  from  it  into  the 
vulgar  level." 

"  Such  a  confefjsion  of  faith,  developed  in  this  manner,  does  not  re- 
pulse me,"  answered  Wilhelm  ;  "it  agrees  with  much  that  one  hears 
■  now  and  then  in  the  course  of  life  ;  only,  you  unite  what  others  sep- 
arate." 

To  this  they  replied  :  "  Our  confession  has  already  been  adopted, 
though  unconsciously,  by  a  great  part  of  the  world." 

•'How  then,  and  where?"  said  Wilhelm. 

"  In  the  creed  !"  exclaimed  they  :  "  for  the  first  article  is  ethnic, 
and  belongs  to  all  nations  ;  the  second  Christian,  for  those  struggling 
with  aflliction  and  glorified  in  aflliction  ;  the  third,  in  fine,  teaches  an 
inspired  communion  of  saints,  that  is,  of  men  in  the  highest  degree 
good  and  wise.  And  should  not  therefore  the  three  divine  persons, 
under  the  similitudes  and  names  of  which  these  threefold  doctrines 
and  commands  are  promulgated,  justly  be  considered  as  in  the  highest 
sense  one?" 

"I  thank  you,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  for  having  pleased  to  lay  all  this 
before  me  in  such  clearness  and  combination,  as  before  a  grown-up 
person,  to  whom  your  three  modes  of  feeling  are  not  altogether  for- 
eign. And  now,  when  I  reflect  that  you  communicate  this  high 
doctrine  to  your  children,  in  the  first  place  as  a  sensible  sign,  then 
with  some  symbolical  accompaniment  attached  to  it,  and  at  last  un- 
fold to  them  its  deepest  meaning,  I  cannot  but  warmly  approve  of 
your  method," 


496  MEISTEB'8  TRAVELS. 

"  Riglit,"  answered  they  ;  "  but  now  we  must  slioAv  you  more,  and 
so  convince  you  tlie  better  that  your  son  is  in  no  bad  hands.  This, 
liowever,  may  remain  for  the  morrow  ;  rest  and  refresh  yourself,  that 
you  may  attend  us  in  the  morning,  as  a  man  satisfied  and  unimpeded, 
into  the  interior  of  our  sanctuary," 


CHAPTER  XI. 


At  the  hand  of  the  eldest,  our  friend  now  proceeded  through  a  state- 
ly portal,  into  a  round,  or  rather  octagonal  hall,  so  richly  decked  with 
pictures,  that  it  struck  him  with  astonishment  as  he  entered.  All 
this,  he  easily  conceived,  must  have  a  significant  import,  though  at 
the  moment  he  saw  not  so  clearly  what  it  was.  While  about  to  ques- 
tion his  guide  on  this  subject,  the  latter  invited  him  to  step  forward 
into  a  gallery,  open  on  the  one  side,  and  stretching  round  a  spacious 
gay  flowery  garden.  The  wall,  however,  not  the  flowers  attracted  the 
eyes  of  the  stranger  ;  it  was  covered  with  paintings,  and  Wilhelm 
could  not  walk  far  without  observing  that  the  sacred  books  of  the 
Israelites  had  furnished  the  materials  for  these  figures. 

"  It  is  here,"  said  the  eldest,  "  that  we  teach  our  first  religion,  the 
religion  which,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  I  named  the  Ethnic.  The 
spirit  of  it  is  to  be  sought  for  in  the  history  of  the  world  ■.  its  outward 
form,  in  the  events  of  that  history.  Only  in  the  return  of  similar  des- 
tinies on  whole  nations,  can  it  properly  be  apprehended." 

"I  observe,"  said  Wilhelm,  "you  have  done  the  Israelites  the 
honor  to  select  their  history  as  the  groundwork  of  this  delineation,  or 
rather,  you  have  made  it  the  leading  object  there." 

"  As  you  see,"  replied  the  eldest  ;  "  for  you  will  remark,  that  on 
the  socles  and  friezes  we  have  introduced  another  series  of  trans- 
actions and  occurrences,  not  so  much  of  a  synchronistic  as  of  a  sym- 
phronistic  kind  ;  since,  among  all  nations,  we  discover  records  of  a 
similar  import,  and  grounded  on  the  same  facts.  Thus  you  perceive 
here,  while  in  the  main  field  of  the  picture,  Abraham  receives  a  visit 
from  his  gods  in  the  form  of  fair  youths,  Apollo,  among  the  herds- 
men of  Admetus,  is  painted  above  on  the  frieze.  From  which  we 
may  learn,  that  the  gods,  when  they  appear  to  men,  are  commonly 
unrecognized  of  them." 

The  friends  walked  on.  Wilhelm,  for  the  most  part,  met  with 
well-known  objects,  but  they  were  here  exhibited  in  a  livelier  and 
more  expressive  manner  than  he  had  been  used  to  see  them.  On  some 
few  matters  he  requested  explanation,  and  at  last  could  not  help 
returning  to  his  former  question  :  Why  the  Israelitish  history  had 
been  chosen  in  preference  to  all  others  ? 

The  eldest  answered  ;  "  Among  all  heathen  religions,  for  such  also 


CHAPTER  XL  497 

is  the  Israelitish,  tliis  lias  the  most  distinguished  advantages  ;  of 
which  I  sliall  mention  only  a  few.  At  the  Eclinic  judgment-seat,  at 
the  judgment-seat  of  tlie  God  of  nations,  it  is  not  aslied  wlietlier  tliis 
is  the  best,  the  most  excellent  nation,  but  whether  it  lasts,  whether  it 
has  continued.  PTlie  Israelitish  people  never  was  good  for  much,  as 
its  own  leaders,  judges,  rulers,  prophets  have  a  thousand  times  re- 
proachfully declared  ;  it  possesses  few  virtues,  and  most  of  the  faults 
of  other  nations  ;  but  in  cohesion,  steadfastness,  valor,  and  when  all 
this  would  not  serve,  in  obstinate  toughness,  it  has  no  match.  It  is 
the  most  perse verant  nation  in  the  world  :  it  is,  it  was  and  will  be  ; 
to  glorify  the  name  of  Jehovah,  through  all  ages.  We  have  set  it  up, 
therefore,  as  the  pattern  figure  ;  as  the  main  figure,  to  which  the 
others  only  serve  as  a  frame."  , 

"  It  becomes  not  me  to  dfspute  with  you,"  said  Wilhelm,  "since 
ycu  have  instruction  to  imixxrt.  Open  to  me,  therefore,  the  other 
advantages  of  this  people,  or  rather  of  its  history,  of  its  religion." 

"  One  chief  advantage,"  said  the  other,  "  is  its  excellent  collection 
of  sacred  books.  [These  stand  'so  happily  combined  together,  that 
even  out  of  the  most  diverse  elements,  the  feeling  of  a  whole  still 
rises  before  us.  They  are  complete  enough  to  satisfy  ;  fragmentary 
enough  to  excite ;  barbarous  enough  to  rouse  ;  tender  enough  to 
appease  ;  and  for  how  many  other  contradicting  ^  merits  might  not 
these  books,  might  not  this  one  book,  be  praised  ! " 

The  series  of  main  figures,  as  well  as  their  relalTons  to  the  smaller 
which  above  and  below  accompanied  them,  gave  the  guest  so  much  to 
think  of,  that  he  scarcely  heard  the  pertinent  remarks  of  his  guide  ; 
who,  by  what  he  said,  seemed  desirous  rather  to  divert  our  friend's 
attention,  than  to  fix  it  on  the  paintings.  Once,  however,  the  old  man 
said,  on  some  occasion  :  "Another  advantage  of  the  Israelitish  re- 
ligion, I  must  here  mention  ;  it  has  not  embodied  its  God  in  any 
form  ;  and  so  has  left  us  at  liberty  to  represent  him  in  a  worthy 
human  shape,  and  likewise,  by  way  of  contrast,  to  designate  idolatry 
by  forms  of  beasts  and  monsters." 

Our  friend  had  now,  in  his  short  wandering  through  this  hall,  again 
brought  the  spirit  of  universal  history  before  his  mind  ;  in  regard  to 
the  events,  he  had  not  failed  to  meet  with  something  new.  So  like- 
wise, by  the  simultaneous  presentment  of  the  pictures,  by  the  rellec- 
tions  of  his  guide,  many  new  views  had  risen  on  him  ;  and  he  could 
not  but  rejoice  in  thinking  that  his  Felix  was,  by  so  dignified  a 
visible  representation,  to  seize  and  appropriate  for  his  whole  life  those 
great,  significant  and  exemplary  events,  as  if  they  had  actually  been 
present,  and  transacted  beside  him.  He  came  at  length  to  regard  the 
exhibition  altogether  with  the  eyes  of  t^ie  child,  and  in  this  point  of 
view  it  perfectly  contented  liim.  Thus  wandering  on,  they  had  now 
reached  the  gloomy  and  perplexed  periods  of  the  history,  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  city  and  the  temple,  the  murder,  exile,  slavery  of  whole 
masses  of  this  stifE-necked  people.     Its  subsequent  fortunes  were  de- 


498  MEISTEB' 8  TRAVELS. 

lineated  in  a  cunning  allegorical  way  ;  a  real  historical  delineation  of 
them  would  have  lain  without  the  limits  of  true  art. 

At  this  point,  the  gallery  abruptly  terminated  in  a  closed  door,  and 
Wilhelm  was  surprised  to  see  himself  already  at  the  end.  "  In  your 
historical  series,"  said  he,  "  I  find  a  chasm.  You  have  destroyed  the 
temple  of  Jerusalem,  and  dispersed  the  people  ;  yet  you  have  not  in- 
troduced the  divine  Man  who  taught  there  shortly  before  ;  to  whom, 
shortly  before,  they  would  give  no  ear." 

"  To  have  done  this,  as  you  require  it,  would  have  been  an  error. 
The  life  of  that  divine  Man,  whom  you  allude  to,  stands  in  no  connec- 
tion with  the  general  history  of  the  world  in  his  time.  It  was  a  private 
life  ;  his  teaching  was  a  teaching  for  individuals.  What  has  publicly 
befallen  vast  masses  of  people,  and  the  minor  parts  which  compose 
them,  belongs  to  the  general  history  of  the  world,  to  the  general 
religion  of  the  world  ;  the  religion  we  have  named  the  first.  What 
inwardly  befalls  individuals,  belongs  to  the  second  religion,  the 
philosophical  :  such  a  religion  was  it  that  Christ  taught  and  practiced, 
so  long  as  he  went  about  on  earth.  For  this  reason,  the  external  here 
closes,  and  I  now  open  to  you  the  internal." 

A  door  went  back,  and  they  entered  a  similar  gallery  ;  where  Wil- 
helm soon  recognized  a  corresponding  series  of  pictures  from  the  New 
Testament.  They  seemed  as  if  by  another  hand  than  the  first  :  all 
was  softer  ;  fonns,  movements,  accompaniments,  light  and  coloring. 
"  Here,"  said  the  guide,  after  they  had  looked  over  a  few  pictures, 
"you  behold  neither  actions  nor  events,  but  miracles  and  similitudes. 
There  is  here  a  new  world,  a  new  exterior,  different  from  the  former  ; 
and  an  interior,  which  was  altogether  wanting  there.  By  miracles 
and  similitudes,  a  new  world  is  opened  up.  Those  make  the  common 
extraordinary,  these  the  extraordinary  common. 

"  You  will  have  the  goodness,"  said  Wilhelm,  "to  explain  these 
few  words  more  minutely  ;  for,  by  my  own  light,  I  cannot." 

"  They  have  a  natural  meaning,"  said  the  other,  "  though  a  deep 
one.  Examples  will  bring  it  out  most  easily  and  soonest.  There  is 
nothing  more  common  and  customary  than  eating  and  drinking  ;  but 
it  is  extraordinary  to  transform  a  drink  into  another  of  more  noble 
sort  ;  to  multiply  a  portion  of  food  that  it  suffice  a  multitude.  Noth- 
ing is  more  common  than  sickness  and  corporeal  diseases ;  but  to 
remove,  to  mitigate  these  by  spiritual  or  spiritual-like  means,  is  ex- 
traordinary ;  and  even  in  this  lies  the  wonder  of  the  miracle,  that  the 
common  and  the  extraordinary,  the  possible  and  the  impossible,  be- 
come one.  With  the  similitude  again,  with  the  parable,  the  converse 
is  the  case  :  here  it  is  the  sense,  the  view,  the  idea,  that  forms  the 
high,  the  unattainable,  the  extraordinary.  When  this  embodies 
itself  in  a  common,  customary,  comprehensible  figure,  so  that  it 
meets  us  as  if  alive,  present,  actual  ;  so  that  we  can  seize  it,  appro- 
priate, retain  it,  live  with  it  as  with  our  equal, — this  is  a  second  sort 
of  miracle,  and  is  justly  placed  beside  the  iirst  sort,  nay,  perhaps  pre- 


GBAPTER  XT.  499 

ferred  to  it.  Here  a  living  doctrine  is  pronounced,  a  doctrine  which 
can  cause  no  argument  :  it  is  not  an  opinion  about  what  is  right  and 
wrong  ;  it  is  right  and  wrong  themselves,  and  indisputably." 

This  part  of  the  gallery  was  shorter  ;  indeed  it  formed  but  the 
fourth  part  of  the  circuit  inclosing  the  interior  court.  Yet  if  in  the 
former  part  you  merely  walked  along,  you  here  liked  to  linger,  you 
here  walked  to  and  fro.  The  objects  were  not  so  striking,  not  so 
varied  :  yet  they  invited  you  the  more  to  penetrate  their  deep  still 
meaning.  Our  two  friends,  accordingly,  turned  round  at  the  end  of 
the  space  ;  Wilhelm,  at  the  same  time,  expressing  some  surprise 
that  these  delineations  went  no  farther  than  the  supper,  than  the 
scene  where  the  Master  and  his  disciples  part.  He  inquired  for  the 
remaining  portion  of  the  history. 

"  In  all  sorts  of  instruction,"  said  the  eldest,  "  in  all  sorts  of  com- 
munication, we  are  fond  of  separating  whatever  it  is  possible  to 
separate  ;  for  by  this  means  alone  can  the  notion  of  importance  and 
peculiar  significance  arise  in  the  young  mind.  Actual  experience  of 
itself  mingles  and  mixes  all  things  together  :  here,  accordingly,  we 
have  entirely  disjoined  that  sublime  Man's  life  from  its  termination. 
In  life,  he  appears  as  a  true  philosopher — let  not  the  expression 
stagger  you — as  a  wise  man  in  the  highest  sense.  He  stands  firm  to 
his  point  ;  he  goes  on  his  way  inflexibly  ;  and  while  he  exalts  the 
lower  to  himself,  while  he  makes  the  ignorant,  the  poor,  the  sick, 
partakers  of  his  wisdom,  of  his  riches,  of  his  strength,  he,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  no  wise  conceals  his  divine  origin  ;  he  dares  to  equal 
himself  with  God,  nay,  to  declare  that  he  himself  is  God.  In  this 
manner  is  he  wont,  from  youth  upwards,  to  astound  his  familiar 
friends  ;  of  these  he  gains  a  part  to  his  own  cause  ;  irritates  the  rest 
against  him  ;  and  shows  to  all  men,  who  are  aiming  at  a  certain  ele- 
vation in  doctrine  and  life,  what  they  have  to  look  for  from  the 
world.  And  thus,  for  the  noble  portion  of  mankind  his  walk  and 
conversation  are  even  more  instructive  and  profitable  than  his  death  : 
for  to  those  trials  every  one  is  called,  to  this  trial  but  a  few.  Now, 
omitting  all  the  results  from  this  consideration,  do  but  look  at  the 
touching  scene  of  the  Last  Supper.  Here  the  wise  man,  as  it  ever 
is,  leaves  those  that  are  his  own  utterly  orphaned  behind  him  ;  and 
while  he  is  careful  for  the  good,  he  feeds  along  with  them  a  traitor 
by  whom  he  and  the  better  are  to  be  destroyed." 

With  these  words  the  eldest  opened  the  door  ;  and  Wilhelm  fal- 
tered in  surprise,  as  he  found  himself  again  in  the  first  hall  at  the 
entrance.  They  had,  in  the  meanwhile,  as  he  now  saw,  passed 
round  the  whole  circuit  of  the  court.  "I  hoped,"  said  Wilhelm, 
"  you  were  leading  me  to  the  conclusion,  and  you  take  me  back  to 
the  beginning." 

"  For  the  present,"  said  the  eldest,  "  I  can  show  you  nothing  far- 
ther :  uiore  we  do  not  lay  before  our  pupils,  more  we  do  not  explain 
to  them,  than  what  you  have  gone  through.     All  that  is  external. 


500  .  MEISTER- 8  TRAVELS. 

worldly,  universal,  we  communicate  to  each  from  youth  upwards  ; 
what  is  more  particularly  spiritual  and  conversant  with  the  heart,  to 
those  only  who  grow  up  with  some  thoughtfulness  of  temper ;  and 
the  rest,  which  is  opened  only  once  a  year,  cannot  be  imparted  save 
to  those  whom  we  are  sending  forth  as  finished.  That  last  religion 
which  arises  from  the  reverence  of  what  is  beneath  us  ;  that  venera- 
tion of  the  contradictory,  the  hated,  the  avoided,  we  give  each  of  our 
pupils,  in  small  portions  by  way  of  outfit,  along  with  him  into  the 
world,  merely  that  he  may  know  where  more  is  to  be  had,  should 
such  a  want  spring  up  within  him.  I  invite  you  to  return  hither  at 
the  end  of  a  year,  to  visit  our  general  festival,  and  see  how  far  your 
son  is  advanced  :  then  shall  you  be  admitted  into  the  Sanctuary  of 
Sorrow. " 

"  Permit  me  one  question,'-  said  Wilhelm  :  "as  you  have  set  up 
the  life  of  this  divine  Man  for  a  pattern  and  example,  have  you  like- 
wise selected  his  sufferings,  his  death,  as  a  model  of  exalted  patience  ?  " 

"Undoubtedly  we  have,"  replied  the  eldest.  "Of  this  we  make 
no  secret  ;  but  we  draw  a  veil  over  those  sufferings,  even  because  we 
reverence  them  so  highly.  We  hold  it  a  damnable  audacity  to  bring 
forth  that  torturing  cross  and  the  Holy  One  who  suffers  on  it,  or  to 
expose  them  to  the  light  of  the  sun,  which  hid  its  face  when  a  reckless 
world  forced  such  a  sight  on  it  ;  to  take  these  mysterious  secrets,  in 
which  the  divine  depth  of  sorrow  lies  hid,  and  play  with  them,  fondle 
them,  trick  them  out,  and  rest  not  till  the  most  reverend  of  all  solemni- 
ties appears  vulgar  and  paltry.  Let  so  much,  for  the  present,  suffice 
to  put  your  mind  at  peace  respecting  your  son  ;  and  to  convince  you, 
that  on  meeting  him  again,  you  will  find  him  trained,  more  or  less, 
in  one  department  or  another,  but  at  least  in  a  proper  way  ;  and,  at 
all  events,  not  wavering,  perplexed  and  unstable." 

Wilhelm  still  lingered,  looking  at  the  pictures  in  this  entrance-hall, 
and  wishing  to  get  explanation  of  their  meaning.  "  This  too,"  said 
the  eldest,  "  we  must  still  owe  you  for  a  twelvemonth.  The  instruc- 
tion, which,  in  the  interim,  we  give  the  children,  no  stranger  is 
allowed  to  witness  :  then,  however,  come  to  us  ;  and  you  will  hear 
what  our  best  speakers  think  it  serviceable  to  make  public  on  these 
matters." 

Shortly  after  this  conversation,  a  knocking  was  heard  at  the  little 
gate.  The  overseer  of  last  night  announced  himself  ;  he  had  brought 
out  Wilhelm's  horse  ;  and  so  our  friend  took  leave  of  the  three  ;  who, 
as  he  set  out,  consigned  him  to  the  overseer  with  these  words  :  "  This 
man  is  now  numbered  among  the  trusted,  and  thou  understandest 
what  thou  hast  to  tell  him  in  answer  to  his  questions  ;  for,  doubtless, 
he  still  wishes  to  be  informed  on  much  that  he  has  seen  and  heard 
while  here  :  purj^ose  and  circumstance  are  known  to  thee." 

Wilhelm  had,  in  fact,  some  questions  on  his  mind  ;  and  these  he 
ere  long  put  into  words.  As  they  rode  along,  they  were  saluted  by 
the  children,  as  on  the  preceding  evening  ;  but  to-day,  though  rarely, 


CHAPTER  XL  •  501 

lie  now  and  then  observed  a  boy  who  did  not  pause  in  his  work  to 
salute  the  overseer,  but  let  him  pass  unheeded.  Wilhelm  asked  the 
cause  of  this,  aud  what  such  an  exception  meant.  His  companion 
answered  :  "  It  is  full  of  meaning  ;  for  it  is  the  highest  punishment 
which  we  inflict  on  our  pupils  :  they  are  declared  unworthy  to  show 
reverence,  and  obliged  to  exhibit  themselves  as  rude  and  uncultivated 
natures  ;  but  they  do  their  utmost  to  get  free  of  this  situation,  and  in 
general  adapt  themselves  with  great  rapidity  to  any  duty.  Should  a 
young  creature,  on  the  other  hand,  obdurately  make  no  attempt  at 
return  and  amendment,  he  is  then  sent  back  to  his  parents,  with  a 
brief  but  pointed  statement  of  his  case.  Whoever  cannot  suit  himself 
to  the  regulations,  must  leave  the  district  where  they  are  in  force." 

Another  circum.stance  excited  Wilhelm's  curio-sity  to-day,  as  it  had 
done  yesterday  :  the  variety  of  color  and  shape  apparent  in  tlie  dress 
of  the  pupils.  Hereby  no  gradation  could  be  indicated  ;  for  children 
who  saluted  differently,  were  sometimes  clothed  alike  ;  and  others 
agreeing  in  salutation,  differed  in  apparel.  Wilhelm  inquired  the  rea- 
son of  this  seeming  contradiction.  "  It  will  be  explained,"  said  the 
other,  "  when  I  tell  you  that  by  this  means  we  endeavor  to  find  out 
the  children's  several  characters.  With  all  our  general  strictness  and 
regularity,  we  allow  in  this  point  a  certain  latitude  of  choice.  With- 
in the  limits  of  our  own  stores  of  cloths  and  garnitures,  the  pupils  are 
permitted  to  select  what  color  they  please  ;  and  so  likewise,  within 
moderate  limits,  in  regard  to  shape  and  cut.  Their  procedure,  in 
these  matters,  we  accurately  note  ;  for  by  the  color  we  discover  theii* 
turn  of  thinking  ;  by  the  cut,  their  turn  of  acting.  However,  a  de- 
cisive judgment  in  this  is  rendered  difficult  by  one  peculiar  property 
of  human  nature,  by  the  tendency  to  imitate,  the  inclination  to  unite 
with  something.  It  is  very  seldom  that  a  pupil  fancies  any  dress  that 
has  not  been  already  there  ;  for  most  part,  they  select  something 
known,  something  which  they  see  before  their  eyes.  Yet  this  also 
we  find  worthy  observing  ;  by  such  external  circumstances,  they 
declare  themselves  of  one  party  or  another  ,  they  unite  with  this  or 
that  ;  and  thus  some  general  features  of  their  characters  are  indicated  ; 
we  perceive  whither  each  tends,  what  example  he  follows. 

"  We  have  had  cases  where  the  dispositions  of  our  children  verged 
to  generality  ;  where  one  fashion  threatened  to  extend  over  all  ;  and 
any  deviation  from  it  to  dwindle  into  the  state  of  exception.  Such  a 
turn  of  matters  we  endeavor  softly  to  stop  ;  we  let  our  stores  run  out  ; 
this  and  that  sort  of  stuff,  this  and  that  sort  of  decoration  is  no  longer 
to  be  had  ;  we  introduce  something  new  and  attractive  ;  by  bright  col- 
ors and  short  smart  shape,  we  allure  the  lively  ;  by  grave  shadings,  by 
commodious  many-folded  make,  the  thoughtful ;  and  thus,  by  degrees, 
nsstore  the  equilibrium. 

/  "  For  to  uniform  we  are  altogether  disinclined  ;  it  conceals  the  char- 
acter, and,  more  than  any  other  sjiecies  of  distortion,  withdraws  the 
peculiarities  of  children  from  the  eye  of  their  superiors."! 


502  •  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

Amid  this  and  other  conversation,  Wilhelm  reached  the  border  of 
the  province  ;  and  this  at  the  point,  where,  by  the  direction  of  his 
antiquarian  friend,  he  was  to  leave  it,  to  pursue  his  next  special  ob- 
ject. 

At  parting,  it  was  now  settled  with  the  overseer,  that  after  the  space 
of  a  twelvemonth,  Wilhelm  should  return,  when  the  grand  triennial 
festival  was  to  be  celebrated  ;  on  which  occasion  all  the  parents  were 
invited  ;  and  finished  pupils  were  sent  forth  into  the  tasks  of  chance- 
ful life.  Then  too,  so  he  was  informed,  he  might  visit  at  his  pleasure 
all  the  other  districts  ;  where,  on  peculiar  principles,  each  branch  of 
education  was  communicated  and  reduced  to  practice  in  complete  iso- 
lation, and  with  every  furtherance. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HERSILIA  TO  WILHELM 

My  valued,  and  to  speak  it  plainly,  dear  friend,  you  are  wrong  ;  and 
yet,  as  acting  on  your  own  conviction,  not  wrong  either.  So  the  nut- 
brown  maid  is  found,  then  ;  found,  seen,  spoken  to,  known  and  ac- 
knowledged !  And  you  tell  us  farther,  that  it  is  impossible  to  wish 
this  strange  person,  in  her  own  way,  any  happier  condition  ;  or,  in 
her  present  one,  lo  be  of  any  real  advantage  to  her. 

And  now  you  make  it  a  point  of  conscience  not  to  tell  us  where 
that  wondrous  being  lives.  This  you  may  settle  with  your  own  con- 
science ;  but  to  us  it  is  unconscionable.  You  think  to  calm  Lenardo 
by  assuring  him  that  she  is  well.  He  had  said,  almost  promised, 
that  he  would  content  himself  with  this  ;  but  what  will  not  the  pas- 
sionate promise  for  others  and  themselves  !  Know  then  that  the 
matter  is  not  in  the  least  concluded  as  it  yet  stands.  She  is  happy, 
you  tell  us,  happy  by  her  own  activity  and  merit ;  but  the  youth 
would  like  to  learn  the  how,  the  when  and  the  where  ;  and,  what  is 
worse  than  this,  his  sisters  too  would  like  to  learn.  Half  a  year  is 
gone  since  your  departure  ;  till  the  end  of  another  half  year  we  can- 
not hope  to  see  you.  Could  not  you,  like  a  shrewd  and  knowing 
man,  contrive  to  play  your  eternal  Roitge-et-Noir  in  our  neighborhood  ? 
I  have  seen  people  that  could  make  the  knight  skip  over  all  the  chess- 
board without  ever  lighting  twice  on  one  spot.  You  should  learn 
this  feat ;  your  friends  would  not  have  to  want  you  so  long. 

But,  to  set  my  good-will  to  you  in  the  clearest  light,  I  now  tell  you 
in  confidence,  that  there  are  two  most  enchanting  creatures  on  the 
road  ;  whence  I  say  not,  nor  whither  ;  described  they  cannot  be,  and 
no  eulogy  will  do  them  justice.  A  younger  and  an  elder  lady,  be- 
tween whom  it  always  grieves  one  to  make  choice  ;  the  former  so 


CHAPTER  XII.  -  503 

lovely,  that  all  must  wish  to  be  loved  by  her  ;  the  latter  so  attractive 
that  you  must  wisli  to  live  beside  her,  though  she  did  not  love  you. 
I  could  like,  with  all  my  heart,  to  see  you  hemmed  in,  for  three  days, 
between  these  two  splendors  ;  on  the  morning  of  tlae  fourth,  your 
rigorous  vow  would  stand  you  in  excellent  stead. 

By  way  of  foretaste,  I  send  you  a  story,  which  in  some  degree  re- 
fers to  them  ;  what  of  it  is  true  or  fictitious,  you  can  try  to  learn 
from  themselves. 

THE  MAN  OF  FIFTY. 

The  major  came  riding  into  the  court  of  the  mansion  ;  and  Hilaria, 
his  niece,  was  already  standing  without  to  receive  him,  at  the  bottom 
of  the  stairs  which  led  up  to  the  apartments.  Scarcely  could  he 
recognize  her,  for  she  had  grown  both  in  stature  and  beauty.  She 
flew  to  meet  him  ;  he  pressed  her  to  his  breast  with  the  feeling  of  a 
father. 

To  the  baroness,  his  sister,  he  was  likewise  welcome  ;  and  as  Hilaria 
hastily  retired  to  prepare  breakfast,  the  major  said,  with  a  joyful  air  : 
"  For  this  time  I  can  come  to  the  point  at  once,  and  say  that  our  busi- 
ness is  finished.  Our  brother,  the  chief  marshal,  has  at  last  convinced 
himself  that  he  can  neither  manage  farmers  nor  stewards.  In  his  life- 
time he  malces  over  the  estates  to  us  and  our  children  ;  the  annuity 
he  bargains  for  is  higli,  indeed  ;  but  we  can  still  pay  it  :  we  gain 
something  for  the  present,  and  for  the  future  all.  This  new  arrange- 
ment is  to  be  completed  forthwith.  And  as  I  very  soon  expect  my 
discharge,  I  can  again  look  forward  to  an  active  life,  which  may 
secure  decided  advantages  to  us  and  ours.  We  shall  calmly  see  our 
children  growing  up  beside  us  ;  and  it  will  depend  on  us,  on  them,  to 
hasten  their  union." 

"All  this  were  well,"  said  the  baroness,  "had  not  I  a  secret  to 
inform  thee  of,  which  I  myself  discovered  first.  Hilaria's  lieart  is 
no  longer  free  ;  on  her  side  thy  son  has  little  or  nothing  to  hope 
for." 

"  What  sayest  thou  ?"  cried  the  major.  "Is  it  possible?  While 
we  have  been  taking  all  pains  to  settle  economical  concerns,  does 
inclination  play  us  such  a  trick?  Tell  me,  love,  quick  tell  me,  who 
is  it  that  has  fettered  Hilaria's  heart  ?  Or  is  it,  then,  so  bad  as  this  ? 
Is  it  not,  perhaps,  some  transient  impression  we  may  hope  to  efface 
again?" 

"  Thou  must  think  and  guess  a  little  first,"  replied  the  baroness, 
and  thereby  heightened  his  impatience.  It  had  mounted  to  the  utmost 
pitch,  when  the  entrance  of  Hilaria,  with  the  servants  bringing  in 
breakfast,  put  a  negative  on  any  quick  solution  of  the  riddle. 

The  major  himself  thought  he  saw  the  fair  girl  with  other  eyes 
than  a  little  while  before.  He  almost  felt  as  if  jealous  of  the  happy 
man,  whose  image  had  been  able  to  imprint  itself  on  a  soul  so  lovely. 
The  breakfast  he  could  not  relish  ;  and  he  noticed  not  that  all  was 


504  MEISTEB'8  TRAVELS. 

ordered  as  lie  liked  to  have  it,  and  as  he  had  used  to  wish  and  re- 
quire it. 

In  this  silence  and  stagnation,  Hilaria  herself  almost  lost  her  liveli- 
ness. The  mother  felt  embarrassed,  and  led  her  daughter  to  the 
harpsichord  ;  but  Hilaria's  sprightly  and  expressive  playing  scarcely 
extorted  any  approbation  from  the  major.  He  wished  the  breakfast 
and  the  lovely  girl  fairly  out  of  the  way  ;  and  the  baroness  was  at  last 
obliged  to  resolve  on  breaking  up,  and  proposed  to  her  brother  a  walk 
in  the  garden. 

No  sooner  were  they  by  themselves,  than  the  major  pressingly 
repeated  his  question  ;  to  which,  after  a  pause,  his  sister  answered, 
smiling  :  "  If  thou  wouldst  find  the  happy  man  whom  she  loves,  thou 
hast  not  far  to  go,  he  is  quite  at  hand  ;  she  loves  thee  !  " 

The  major  stopped  in  astonishment,  then  cried  :  "It  were  a  most 
unseasonable  jest  to'  trick  me  into  such  a  thought,  which,  if  true, 
would  make  me  so  embarrassed  and  unhappy.  For  though  I  need 
time  to  recover  from  my  amazement,  I  see  at  one  glance  how  griev- 
ously our  circumstances  would  be  disturbed  by  so  unlooked-for  an 
incident.  The  only  thing  that  comforts  me  is  my  persuasion  that 
attachments  of  this  soit  are  apparent  merely  ;  that  a  self-deception 
lurks  behind  them,  and  that  a  good,  true  soul  will  undoubtedly  return 
from  such  mistakes,  either  by  its  own  strength,  or  at  least  by  a  little 
help  from  judicious  friends." 

"  I  am  not  of  that  opinion,"  said  the  baroness  ;  "  by  all  the  symp- 
toms, Hilaria's  present  feeling  is  a  very  serious  one." 

"  A  thing  so  unnatural  I  should  not  have  expected  from  so  natural 
a  character,"  replied  the  major. 

"  So  unnatural  it  is  not,  after  all,"  said  his  sister.  "  I  myself  recol- 
lect having,  in  my  own  youth,  an  attachment  to  a  man  still  older 
than  thou.  Thou  art  fifty  ;  not  so  very  great  an  age  for  a  German, 
if  perhaps  other  livelier  nations  do  fail  sooner." 

"  But  how  dost  thou  support  thy  conjecture  1 "  said  the  major. 

"  It  is  no  conjecture,  it  is  certainty.  The  details  thou  shalt  learn 
by  and  by." 

Hilaria  joined  them  ;  and  the  major  felt  himself,  against  his  willj 
a  second  time  altered.  Her  presence  seemed  to  him  still  dearer  and 
more  precious  than  before  ;  her  manner  more  afEectionate  and  tender  ; 
already  he  began  to  put  some  faith  in  his  sister's  statement.  The 
feeling  was  highly  delightful,  though  he  neither  would  permit  nor 
confess  this  to  his  mind.  Hilaria  was,  in  truth,  peculiarly  interest- 
ing ;  her  manner  blended  in  closest  union  a  soft  shyness  as  towards  a 
lover,  and  a  trustful  frankness  as  towards  an  uncle  ;  for  she  really, 
and  with  her  whole  soul,  loved  him.  The  garden  lay  in  all  the  pomp 
of  spring  ;  and  the  major,  who  saw  so  many  old  trees  again  putting 
on  their  vesture,  might  also  believe  in  the  returning  of  his  own  spring. 
And  who  would  not  have  been  tempted  to  it,  at  the  side  of  this  most 
lovely  maiden? 


CHAPTER  Xlt.  505 

So  passed  tlie  day  with  them  :  the  various  household  epochs  were 
goue  through  in  high  cheerfulness  ;  in  the  evening,  after  supper, 
Hilaria,  returned  to  lier  harpsichord  ;  the  major  listened  with  other 
ears  than  in  the  morning  ;  one  melody  winded  into  another  ;  one 
song  produced  a  second  ;  and  scarcely  could  midnight  separate  the 
little  party. 

On  retiring  to  his  room,  the  major  found  everything  arranged  to  suit 
his  old  habitual  conveniences  ;  some  copper-plates,  even,  which  he 
liked  to  look  at,  had  been  shifted  from  other  apartments  ;  and  his  eyes 
being  at  last  opened,  he  saw  himself  attended  to  and  flattered  in  the 
most  minute  particulars. 

A  few  hours'  sleep  sufficed  on  this  occasion  ;  his  buoyant  spirits 
aroused  him  early.  But  now  he  soon  found  occasion  to  observe,  that 
a  new  order  of  things  carries  many  inconveniences  along  with  it. 
His  old  groom,  who  also  discharged  the  functions  of  lackey  and  valet, 
he  had  not  once  reproved  during  many  years  ;  for  all  went  its  usual 
course  in  the  most  rigid  order  ;  the  horses  were  dressed,  and  the 
clothes  brushed,  at  the  proper  moment ;  but  to-day  the  master  had 
risen  earlier,  and  nothing  suited  as  it  used  to  do. 

Ere  long  a  new  circumstance  combined  with  this  to  ruffle  him  still 
farther.  At  other  times  all  had  been  right,  as  his  servant  had  pre- 
pared it  for  him  ;  now,  however,  on  advancing  to  the  glass,  he  found 
himself  not  at  all  as  he  wished  to  be.  Some  gray  hairs  he  could 
not  deny  ;  and  of  wrinkles  also  there  appears  to  have  been  a  trace  or 
two.  He  wiped  and  powdered  more  that  usual  ;  and  was  fain  at  last 
to  let  matters  stand  as  they  could.  Then,  it  seemed,  there  were  still 
creases  in  his  coat,  and  still  dust  on  his  boots.  The  old  groom  knew 
not  what  to  make  of  this,  and  was  amazed  to  see  so  altered  a  master 
before  him. 

In  spite  of  all  these  hindrances,  the  major  got  down  to  the  garden 
in  good  time.  Hilaria,  whom  he  hoped  to  find  there,  he  actually 
found.  She  brought  him  a  nosegay,  and  he  had  not  the  heart  to  kiss 
her  as  usual,  and  press  her  to  his  breast.  He  felt  himself  in  the  most 
delightful  embarrassment,  and  yielded  to  his  feelings,  without  reflect- 
ing whither  they  might  carry  him. 

.  The  baroness  soon  joined  them,  and  directing  her  brother  to  a  note 
•which  had  just  been  brought  her  by  a  special  messenger,  she  cried  : 
"  Thou  wilt  not  guess  whom  this  announces  to  us  !  " 

"  Tell  us  at  once,  then,"  said  the  major  ;  and  it  now  appeared  that 
an  old  theatrical  friend  was  traveling  by  a  road  not  far  off,  and  pur- 
posing to  call  for  a  moment.  "  I  am  anxious  to  see  him  again," 
said  the  major  :  "  he  is  no  chicken  now  ;  and  I  hear  he  still  plays  young 
parts." 

"  He  must  be  ten  years  older  than  thou,"  replied  the  baroness. 

"  He  must,"  said  the  major,  "  from  all  that  I  remember." 

They  had  not  waited  long,  when  a  lively,  handsome,  courteous 
man  stepped  forward  to  them.     Yet  the  friends  soon  recognized  each 


506  MEISTER' 8  TRAVELS. 

other  ;  and  recollections  of  all  sorts  enlivened  the  conversation.  They 
proceeded  to  questions,  to  answers  to  narratives  ;  they  mutually  made 
known  their  present  situations,  and  in  a  short  time  felt  as  if  they  had 
never  been  separated. 

Secret  history  informs  us  that  this  person  had,  in  former  days, 
being  then  a  very  elegant  and  graceful  youth,  had  the  good  or  bad 
fortune  to  attract  the  favor  of  a  lady  of  rank  ;  that  by  this  means 
he  had  come  into  perplexity  and  danger ;  out  of  which  the  major,  at 
the  very  moment  when  the  saddest  fate  seemed  impending,  had  hap- 
pily delivered  him.  From  that  hour  he  continued  grateful,  to  the 
brother  as  well  as  to  the  sister  ;  for  it  was  she  that,  by  timef  ul  warn- 
ing, had  originated  their  precautions. 

For  a  while  before  dinner,  the  men  were  left  alone.  Not  without 
surprise,  nay,  in  some  measure,  with  amazement,  had  the  major 
viewed  as  a  whole,  and  in  detail,  the  exterior  condition  of  his  old 
friend.  He  seemed  not  in  the  smallest  altered  ;  and  it  was  not  to  be 
wondered  at  that  he  could  still  appear  on  the  stage  as  an  actor  of 
youthful  parts.  "Thou  inspectest  me  more  strictly  than  is  fair," 
said  he  at  last  to  the  major  :  "  I  fear  thou  findest  the  difference  be- 
tween this  and  bygone  times  but  too  great." 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  major  :  "  on  the  contrary,  it  fills  me  with 
astonishment  to  find  thy  look  fresher  and  younger  than  mine  ; 
though  I  know  thou  wert  a  firmset  man  at  the  time  when  I  with  the 
boldness  of  a  callow  desperado,  stood  by  thee  in  certain  straits." 

"  It  is  thy  own  fault,"  replied  the  other  ;  "  it  is  the  fault  of  all  like 
thee  ;  and  though  you  are  not  to  be  loudly  censured  for  it,  you  are 
still  to  be  blamed.  You  think  only  of  the  needful  ;  you  wish  to  be, 
not  to  seem.  This  is  very  well,  so  long  as  one  is  anything.  But 
when,  at  last,  being  comes  to  recommend  itself  by  seeming,  and  this 
seeming  is  found  to  be  even  more  transient  than  the  being,  then 
every  one  of  you  discovers  that  he  would  not  have  done  amiss,  if,  in 
his  care  for  what  was  inward,  be  had  not  entirely  neglected  what 
was  outward." 

"  Thou  art  right,"  replied  the  major,  and  could  scarcely  suppress 
a  sigh. 

"  Perhaps  not  altogether  right,"  said  the  aged  youth  ;  "  for  though 
in  my  trade  it  were  unpardonable  if  one  did  not  try  to  parget-up  the 
outward  man  as  long  as  possible,  you  people  need  to  think  of  other 
things,  which  are  more  important  and  profitable." 

"Yet  there  are  occasions,"  said  the  major,  "when  a  man  feels 
fresh  internally,  and  could  wish,  with  all  his  heart,  that  he  were 
fresh  externally  too." 

As  the  stranger  could  not  have  the  slightest  suspicion  of  the 
major's  real  state  of  mind,  he  took  these  words  in  a  soldierly  sense  ; 
and  copiously  explained  how  much  depended  on  externals  in  the  art 
military,  and  how  the  officer,  who  had  so  much  attention  to  bestow 
on  dress,  might  apply  a  little  also  to  skin  and  hair. 


CHAPTER  XII.  507 

"  For  example,"  continued  he,  "  it  is  indubitable  that  your  temples 
are  already  gray,  that  wrinkles  are  here  and  there  gathering  together, 
and  that  your  crown  threatens  to  grow  bald.  Now  look  at  me,  old 
fellow  as  I  am  !  See  how  I  have  held  out  !  And  all  this  without 
•witchcraft  ;  and  with  far  less  pains  and  care  than  others  take,  day 
after  day,  in  spoiling,  or  at  least  wearying  themselves." 

The  major  found  this  accidental  conversation  too  precious  an  afEair 
to  think  of  ending  it  soon  ;  but  he  went  to  work  softly,  and  with 
precaution  towards  even  an  old  acquaintance.  "  This  opportunity, 
alas,  I  have  lost,"  cried  he  ;  "  and  it  is  past  recalling  now  :  I  must 
even  content  myself  as  I  am,  and  you  will  not  think  worse  of  me  on 
that  account." 

"  Lost  it  is  not,"  said  the  other,  "  were  not  you  grave  gentlemen 
so  stifE  and  stubborn  ;  did  you  not  directly  call  one  vain,  if  he  thinks 
about  his  person,  and  cast  away  from  you  the  happiness  of  being  in 
pleasant  company,  and  pleasing  there  yourselves." 

"  If  it  is  not  magic,"  smiled  the  major,  "  that  you  people  use  for 
keeping  yourselves  young,  it  is  at  all  events  a  secret  ;  or  at  least  you 
have  arcana,  such  as  one  often  sees  bepraised  in  newspapers,  and 
from  these  you  pick  out  the  best." 

"  Joke  or  earnest,"  said  the  other,  "  thou  hast  spoken  truth.  Among 
the  many  things  that  have  been  tried  for  giving  some  repair  to  the 
exterior,  which  often  fails  far  sooner  than  the  interior,  there  are,  in 
fact  certain  invaluable  recipes,  simple  as  well  as  compound  ;  which, 
as  imparted  to  me  by  brethren  of  the  craft,  purchased  for  ready 
money,  or  hit  upon  by  chance,  I  have  proved  and  found  effectual. 
By  these  I  now  hold  fast  and  persevere,  yet  without  abandoning  my 
farther  researches.  So  much  I  may  tell  thee,  and  without  exaggera- 
tion :  A  dressing-box  I  carry  with  me  beyond  all  price  !  A  box, 
whose  influences  I  could  like  to  try  on  thee,  if  we  chanced  any  time 
to  be  a  fortnight  together." 

The  thought  that  such  a  thing  was  possible,  and  that  this  possibility 
was  held  out  to  him  so  accidentally  at  the  very  moment  of  need,  enliv- 
ened the  spirit  of  the  major  to  such  a  degree,  that  he  actually  ap- 
peared much  fresher  and  brisker  already  ;  at  table,  excited  by  the 
hope  of  bringing  head  and  face  into  harmony  with  his  heart,  and  by 
eagerness  to  get  acquainted  with  the  methods  of  doing  so,  he  was  quite 
another  man  ;  he  met  Hilaria's  graceful  attentions  with  alacrity  of 
soul,  and  even  looked  at  her  with  a  certain  confidence,  which  in  the 
morning  he  was  far  from  feeling. 

If  the  dramatic  stranger  had  contrived,  by  many  recollections,  sto- 
ries and  happy  hits,  to  keep  up  the  cheerful  humor  once  excited,  he 
so  much  the  more  alarmed  the  major,  on  signifying  when  the  cloth 
was  removed,  that  he  must  now  think  of  setting  forth  and  continuing 
his  journey.  By  every  scheme  in  his  power,  the  major  strove  to 
facilitate  his  friend's  stay,  at  least  for  the  night  ;  he  pressingly  en- 
gaged to  have  horses  and  relays  in  readiness  next  morning  ;  in  a  word. 


508  MEISTEB'S  TRAVELS. 

the  healing  toilet  was  absolutely  not  to  get  out  of  the  premises,  till 
once  he  had  obtained  more  light  on  its  contents  and  use. 

The  major  saw  very  well  that  here  no  time  must  be  lost ;  he 
accordingly  endeavored,  soon  after  dinner,  to  take  his  old  favorite 
aside,  and  speak  with  him  in  private.  Not  having  the  heart  to  pro- 
ceed directly  to  the  point,  he  steered  towards  it  afar  off  ;  and,  taking 
up  the  former  conversation,  signified  :  That  he,  for  his  part,  would 
Avillingly  bestow  more  care  on  his  exterior,  were  it  not  that  people, 
the  moment  they  observed  a  man  making  such  an  attempt,  marked 
him  down  for  vain  ;  and  so  deducted  from  him  in  regard  to  moral 
esteem,  what  they  felt  obliged  to  yield  him  in  regard  to  sensible. 

"  Do  not  vex  me  with  such  phrases  !  "  said  his  friend.  "  These  are 
words  to  which  society  has  got  accustomed,  without  attaching  any 
meaning  to  them  ;  or  if  we  take  it  up  more  strictly,  by  which  it  indi- 
cates its  unfriendly  and  spiteful  nature.  If  thou  consider  it  rightly, 
what,  after  all,  is  this  same  vanity  they  make  so  much  ado  about '? 
Every  man  should  feel  souie  pleasure  in  himself,  and  happy  he  who 
feels  it.  But  if  he  does  feel  it,  how  can  he  help  letting  others  notice 
it  ?  How  shall  he  hide,  in  the  midst  of  life,  that  it  gives  him  joy  to 
be  alive  ?  If  good  society,  and  I  mean  this  exclusively  here,  only 
blamed  such  indications  when  they  became  too  violent  ;  when  the 
joy  of  one  man  over  his  existence  hindered  others  to  have  joy  and  to 
show  it  over  theirs,  it  were  good  and  well  ;  and  from  this  excess  the 
censure  has,  in  fact,  originally  sprung.  But  what  are  we  to  make  of 
that  strange,  prim,  abnegating  rigor  against  a  thing  which  cannot  be 
avoided?  Why  should  not  a  display  of  feeling  on  the  part  of  others 
be  considered  innocent  and  tolerable,  which,  more  or  less,  we  from 
time  to  time  allow  ourselves.  Foif  it  is  the  pleasure  one  has  in  him- 
self, the  desire  to  communicate  this  consciousness  of  his  to  others, 
that  makes  a  man  agreeable  ;  the  feeling  of  his  own  grace  that  makes 
him  graceful.  .  Would  to  Heaven  &\\  men  were  vain  !  that  is,  were 
vain  with  clear  perception,  with  moderation  and  in  a  proper  sense  ; 
we  should  then,  in  the  cultivated  world,  have  happy  times  of  it. 
Women,  it  is  told  us,  are  vain  from  the  very  cradle ;  yet  does  it  not 
become  them,  do  they  not  please  us  the  more  V  How  can  a  youth  form 
himself,  if  he  is  not  vain?  An  empty,  hollow  nature,  will,  by  this 
means,  at  least  contrive  to  give  itself  an  outward  show  ;  and  a  proper 
man  will  soon  train  himself  from  the  outside  inwards.  As  to  my  own 
share,  I  have  reason  to  consider  myself  in  this  point  a  most  happy 
man  ;  for  my  trade  justifies  me  in  being  vain  ;  and  the  vainer  I  am 
the  more  satisfaction  I  give.  I  am  praised  when  others  are  blamed  ; 
and  have  still,  in  this  very  way,  the  happiness  and  the  right  to  gratify 
and  charm  the  public  at  an  age  when  otliers  are  constrained  to 
retire  from  the  scene,  or  linger  on  it  only  with  disgrace. " 

The  major  heard  with  no  great  joy  the  issue  of  these  reflections. 
The  little  word  vanity,  as  he  pronounced  it,  had  been  meant  to  serve 
as  a  transition,  for  enabling  him  to  introduce  with  some  propriety  the 


CHAPTER  XII.  509 

statemeut  of  his  own  wish.  But  now  he  was  afraid,  if  their  dialogue 
proceeded  thus,  he  should  be  led  still  farther  from  his  aim  ;  so  he 
hastened  to  the  point  directly. 

"  For  my  own  part,"  said  he.  "  I  should  by  no  means  disincline  to 
enlist  under  thy  flag  since  thou  ^;lill  holdest  it  to  be  in  time,  and  think- 
est  1  might  yet  in  some  degree  make  up  lor  what  is  lost.  Impart  to 
me  somewhat  of  thy  tinctures,  pomades,  and  balsams  ;  and  I  will 
make  a  trial  of  them." 

"  Imparting,"  .said  the  other,  "  is  a  harder  task  than  you  suppose. 
Here,  for  example,  it  were  still  to  small  purpose  that  I  poured  thee 
out  some  liquors  from  my  vials,  and  left  the  half  of  the  best  ingre- 
dients in  my  toilet  :  the  appliance  is  the  hardest.  You  cannot,  on 
the  instant,  appropriate  what  is  given  you  :  how  this  and  that  suit 
together,  under  what  circumstances,  in  what  sequence  things  are  to 
be  ased  ;  all  this  requires  practice  and  study  ;  nay,  study  and  practice 
themselves  will  scarcely  profit,  if  one  bring  not  to  the  business  a 
natural  genius  for  it." 

"Thou  art  now,  it  seems,  for  drawing  back,"  said  the  major. 
"  Thou  raiseth  difficulties  when  I  would  have  thy  truly  somewhat 
fabulous  assertions  rendered  certain.  Thou  hast  no  mind  to  let  me 
try  thy  words  by  the  test  of  action." 

"  By  such  bauterings,  my  friend,"  replied  the  other,  "  thou  wouldst 
not  prevail  on  me  to  gratify  thy  wish  ;  if  it  were  not  that  I  entertain 
such  affection  for  thee,  and  indeed  first  made  the  proposal  myself. 
Besides,  if  we  consider  it,^man  has  quite  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  making 
proselytes  ;  in  bringing  what  he  values  in  himself  into  view  also  with- 
out himself  on  others  ;  causing  others  to  enjoy  what  he  enjoys  ;  finding 
in  others  his  own  likeness,  represented  and  reflected  back  to  him.  In 
sooth,  if  this  is  selfishness,  it  is  of  the  most  laudable  and  lovable  sort, 
that  selfishness  which  has  made  us  men  and  keeps  us  so.  From  this 
universal  feeling,  then,  apart  from  my  friendship  to  thee,  I  shall  be 
happy  in  having  such  a  scholar  in  the  great  youth-renewing  art.  But, 
as  from  a  master  it  may  be  expected  that  he  shall  produce  no  botcher 
by  his  training,  I  confess  myself  a  little  at  a  loss  how  to  set  about  it. 
I  told  thee  already  that  neither  recipes  nor  instructions  would  avail ; 
the  practice  cannot  be  taught  by  universal  rules.  For  thy  sake,  and 
from  the  wish  to  propagate  my  doctrine,  I  am  ready  to  make  any  sac- 
rifice. The  greatest  in  my  power  for  the  present  moment  I  will  now 
propose  to  thee.  I  shall  leave  my  servant  here  ;  a  sort  of  waiting- 
man  and  conjurer,  who,  if  he  does  not  understand  preparing  every- 
thing, if  he  has  not  yet  been  initiated  into  all  the  mysteries,  can  apply 
my  preparations  perfectly  ;  and  in  the  first  stage  of  the  attempt  will 
be  of  great  use  to  thee,  till  once  thou  have  worked  thy  way  so  far  into 
the  art,  that  I  may  reveal  to  thee  the  higher  secrets  also." 

"  How  !  "  cried  the  major  ;  "  thou  hast  stages  and  degrees  in  thy  art 
pf  making  young?     Thou  hast  secrets  even  for  the  initiated?" 

"  No  doubt  of  it ! "  replied  the  other.     "  That  were  but  a  sorry  art 


510  MEI8TEB' 8  TRAVELS. 

wliicli  could  be  comprehended  all  at  once  ;  the  last  point  of  which 
could  be  seen  by  one  just  entering  its  precincts." 

Without  loss  of  time,  the  waiting-man  was  formally  consigned  to 
the  major,  who  engaged  to  treat  him  handsomely.  The  baroness  was 
called  on  for  drawers,  boxes,  glasses,  to  what  purpose  she  knew  not  : 
the  petition  of  the  toilet  store  went  forward  ;  the  friends  kept  together 
in  a  gay  and  sprightly  mood  till  after  niglitfall.  At  moonrise,  some 
time  later,  the  guest  took  his  leave,  promising  ere  long  to  return. 

The  major  reached  his  chamber  pretty  mucli  fatigued.  He  had 
risen  early,  had  not  spared  himself  throughout  the  day,  and  now- 
hoped  very  soon  to  get  to  bed.  But  here  instead  of  one  servant,  he 
found  two.  The  old  groom,  in  his  old  way,  rapidly  undressed  him  ; 
but  now  the  waiting -man  stepped  forth  and  signified,  that  for  appli- 
ances of  a  renovating  and  cosmetic  nature,  the  peculiar  season  was 
night  ;  that  so  their  effects,  assisted  by  a  peaceful  sleep,  might  be 
stronger  and  safer.  The  major  was  obliged  to  content  himself,  and 
let  his  head  be  anointed,  his  face  painted,  his  eyebrows  penciled,  and 
his  lips  tipped  with  salve.  Besides  all  this,  there  were  various  cere- 
monies still  required  :  nay,  the  very  nightcap  was  not  to  be  put  on 
immediately,  not  till  a  net,  or  even  a  fine  leather  cap,  had  been  drawn 
on  next  the  head. 

The  major  laid  himself  in  bed  with  a  sort  of  unpleasant  feeling  ; 
which,  however,  he  had  no  time  to  investigate  the  nature  of,  as  he 
very  soon  fell  asleep.  But  if  we  might  speak  wdth  his  spirit,  we 
should  say  he  felt  himself  a  little  mummy-like,  somewhat  between  a 
sick  man  and  a  man  embalmed.  Yet  the  sweet  image  of  Hilaria, 
encircled  with  the  gayest  hopes,  soon  led  him  into  a  refreshing  sleep. 

In  the  morning  at  the  proper  hour,  the  groom  was  ready  in  his  place. 
All  that  pertained  to  his  master's  equipment  lay  in  wonted  order  on 
the  chairs  ;  and  the  major  was  just  on  the  point  of  rising,  when  the 
new  attendant  entered,  and  strongly  protested  against  any  such  pre- 
cipitation. He  must  rest,  he  must  wait,  if  their  enterprise  was  to 
prosper,  if  they  were  to  be  rewarded  for  their  pains  and  labor.  The 
major  now  learned  that  he  had  to  rise  by  and  by,  to  take  a  slight 
breakfast  and  then  go  into  a  bath,  which  was  already  prepared  for 
him.  The  regulations  were  inflexible  ;  they  required  a  strict  obser- 
vance ;  and  some  hours  passed  away  under  these  occupations. 

The  major  abridged  the  resting-time  after  his  bath,  and  thought 
to  get  his  clothes  about  him  ;  for  he  was  by  nature  expeditious,  and 
at  present  he  longed  to  see  Hilaria  ;  but  in  this  point  also  his  new 
servant  thwarted  him  ;  and  signified,  that  in  all  cases  he  must  drop 
the  thought  of  being  in  a  hurry.  Whatever  he  did,  it  appeared,  must 
be  done  leisurely  and  pleasurably  ;  but  the  time  of  dressing  was 
especially  to  be  considered  as  a  cheerful  hour  for  conversation  with 
one's  self. 

The  valet's  manner  of  proceeding  completely  agreed  with  his  words. 
But,  in  return,  the  major,  when,  on  stepping  forward  to  the  glass,  he 


OHAPtER  XtL  511 

saw  himself  trimmed  out  in  the  neatest  fashion,  really  thought  that 
he  was  belter  dressed  than  formerly.  Without  many  words,  the  con- 
juror had  changed  the  very  uniform  into  a  newer  cut,  having  spent 
the  night  in  working  at  it.  An  apparently  so  quick  rejuvenescence 
put  the  major  in  his  liveliest  mood  ;  so  that  he  felt  himself  as  if  reno- 
vated both  without  and  within,  and  hastened  with  impatient  longing 
to  his  friends. 

He  found  his  sister  engaged  in  looking  at  the  pedigree  v^diich  she 
had  caused  to  be  hung  up;  the  conversation  last  night  having  turned 
on  some  collateral  relations,  unmarried  persons,  or  resident  in  foreign 
countries,  or  entirely  gone  out  of  sight,  from  all  of  whom  the  bar- 
oness and  her  brother  had  more  or  less  hope  of  heritages  for  them- 
selves or  their  families.  They  conversed  a  while  on  these  matters, 
without  mentioning  the  circumstance  that  all  their  economical  cares 
and  exertions  had  hitherto  been  solely  directed  to  tlieir  children.  By 
Hilaria's  attachment  the  whole  of  this  prospect  had  altered  ;  yet 
neither  the  major  nor  bis  sister  could  summon  courage  to  mention  it 
farther,  at  this  moment. 

The  baroness  left  the  room  ;  the  major  was  standing  alone  before 
this  laconic  history  of  his  family ;  Hilaria  stepped  in  to  him ;  she  leaned 
herself  on  him  in  a  kind,  child-like  way,  looked  at  the  parchment,  and 
asked  him  whom  of  all  these  he  had  known,  and  who  of  them  were 
still  left  and  living. 

The  major  began  his  delineation  with  the  oldest,  of  whom  any  dim 
recollection  remained  with  him  from  childhood.  Then  he  proceeded 
farther  ;  painted  the  characters  of  several  fathers,  the  likeness  or 
unlikeness  of  their  children  to  them  ;  remarked  that  the  grandfather 
often  reappeared  in  the  grandson  ;  spoke,  by  the  way,  of  the  influence 
of  certain  women,  wedded  out  of  strange  families,  and  sometimes 
changing  the  character  of  whole  branches.  He  eulogized  the  virtue 
of  many  an  ancestor  and  relative,  nor  did  he  hide  their  failings.  Such 
as  had  brought  shame  on  their  lineage  he  passed  in  silence.  At 
length  he  reached  the  lowest  lines.  Here  stood  his  brother,  the  chief 
marshal,  himself,  and  his  sister,  and  beneath  him  his  son,  with  Hila- 
ria at  his  side. 

"  These  two  look  each  other  straight  enough  in  the  face,"  said  the 
major  ;  not  adding  what  he  thought  of  the  matter  in  his  heart. 

After  a  pause  Hilaria  answered,  in  a  meek  small  tone,  and  almost 
with  a  sigh  :  "  Yet  those,  surely,  are  not  to  blame  who  look  upwards." 
At  the  same  time  she  looked  up  to  him  with  a  pair  of  eyes,  out  of 
which  her  whole  love  was  speaking. 

"  Do  I  understand  thee  rightly  ?  "  said  the  major,  turning  round  to 
her. 

"  I  can  say  nothing,"  answered  she,  with  a  smile,  "  which  you  do 
not  -know  already. " 

"  Thou  makest  me  the  happiest  man  under  the  sun,"  cried  he,  and 
fell  at  her  feet.     "  Wilt  thou  be  mine?  " 


512  MEISTER'8  TRAVELS. 

"For  Heaven's  sake  rise  !     I  am  thine  forever." 

The  baroness  entered.  Though  not  surprised,  she  rather  hesitated. 
"If  it  be  wrong,  sister,"  said  the  major,  "  the  blame  is  thine  ;  if  it 
be  right,  we  will  thank  thee  forever." 

The  baroness  from  youth  upwards  had  so  loved  her  brother,  that 
she  preferred  him  to  all  men  ;  and  perhaps  Hilaria's  attachment  it- 
self had,  if  not  arisen  from  this  sisterly  partiality,  at  least  been  cher- 
ished by  it.  All  three  now  united  in  one  love,  in  one  delight  ;  and 
thus  the  happiest  hours  flew  over  them.  Yet  at  last  their  eyes  re- 
opened to  the  world  around  them  likewise  ;  and  this  rarely  stands 
in  unison  with  such  emotions. 

They  now  again  bethought  them  of  the  son.  For  him  Hilaria  had 
been  destined  ;  this  he  himself  well  knew.  Directly  after  finishing 
the  business  with  the  chief  marshal,  the  major  had  appointed  his  son 
to  expect  him  in  the  garrison,  that  they  might  settle  everything 
together,  and  conduct  these  purposes  to  a  happy  issue.  But  now,  by 
an  unexpected  occurrence,  the  whole  state  of  matters  had  been  thrown 
out  of  joint  ;  the  circumstances  which  before  plied  into  one  aiiother  so 
kindly,  now  seemed  to  be  assuming  a  hostile  aspect  ;  and  it  was  not 
easy  to  foresee  what  turu  the  affair  would  take,  what  temper  v/ould 
seize  the  individuals  concerned  in  it. 

Meanwhile  the  major  was  obliged  to  resolve  on  visiting  his  son, 
to  whom  he  had  already  announced  himself.  Not  without  reluctance, 
not  without  singular  forecastings,  not  without  pain  at  even  for  a  short 
time  leaving  Hilaria,  he  at  last,  after  much  lingering,  took  the  road  ; 
and  leaving  groom  and  horses  behind  him,  proceeded  with  his  cos- 
metic valet,  who  had  now  become  an  indispensable  appendage,  to- 
wards the  town  where  his  son  resided. 

Both  saluted  and  embraced  each  other  cordially,  after  so  long  a 
separation.  They  had  much  to  commimicate  ;  yet  they  did  not  just 
commence  with  what  lay  nearest  their  hearts.  The  son  went  into 
copious  talk  about  his  hopes  of  speedy  advancement  ;  in  return  for 
which,  the  father  gave  him  precise  accounts  of  what  had  been  dis- 
cussed and  determined  between  the  elder  members  of  the  family,  both 
in  regard  to  fortune  in  general,  to  the  individual  estates,  and  every- 
thing pertaining  to  them. 

The  conversation  was  in  some  degree  beginning  to  flag,  when  the 
son  took  heart,  and  said  to  his  father,  with  a  smile  :  "  You  treat  me 
very  tenderly,  dear  father,  and  I  thank  you  for  it.  You  tell  me  of 
properties  and  fortune,  and  mention  not  the  terms  under  which,  at 
least  in  part,  they  are  to  be  mine  :  you  keep  back  the  name  of 
Hilaria  ;  you  expect  that  1  should  bring  it  forth,  that  I  should  express 
my  desire  to  be  speedily  united  with  that  amiable  maiden." 

At  these  words  the  major  felt  himself  in  great  perplexity  ;  but  as, 
partly  by  nature,  partly  by  old  habit,  it  was  his  way  to  collect  the 
purpose  of  the  man  he  had  to  treat  with  before  stating  his  own,  he 
now  said  nothing,  and  looked  at  the  son  with  an  ambiguous  smile. 


CHAPTER  XII.  513 

"  You  will  not  guess,  father,  what  I  have  to  say,"  continued  the 
lieutenant  ;  "  I  will  speak  it  6ut  briefly,  and  once  for  all.  I  can 
depend  on  your  affection,  which,  amid  such  manifold  care  for  me,  has 
doubtless  an  eye  to  my  true  happiness  as  well  as  my  fortune.  Some 
time  or  other  it  must  be  said  ;  be  it  said  then  even  now  ;  Hilaria  can- 
not make  me  happy  !  I  think  of  Hilaria  as  of  a  lovely  relative, 
towards  whom  I  would  live  all  my  days  with  the  friendliest  feel- 
ings ;  but  another  has  awakened  my  affection,  another  has  bound 
my  heart.  The  attachment  is  irresistible  ;  you  will  not  make  me 
miserable." 

Not  without  effort  did  the  major  conceal  the  cheerfulness  which 
was  rising  over  his  face  ;  and  in  a  tone  of  mild  seriousness  inquire  of 
the  son  :  Who  the  person  was  that  had  so  entirely  subdued  him? — 
"You  must  .see  her  yourself,  father,"  said  the  other;  "for  she  can 
as  little  be  described  as  comprehended.  I  have  but  one  fear, — that 
you  yourself  will  be  led  away  by  her,  like  every  one  that  approaches 
her.  By  Heaven,  it  will  be  so  ;  and  I  shall  see  you  the  rival  of  your 
son  I " 

"  But  who  is  she,  then?  "  inquired  the  major.  "If  it  is  not  in  thy 
power  to  delineate  her  personal  characteristics,  tell  me  at  least  of  her 
outward  circumstances  ;  these  at  least  may  be  described." 

"Well,  then,  father,"  replied  the  son  :  "and  yet  these  outward 
circumstances  too  would  be  different  in  a  different  person,  would 
act  otherwise  on  another.  She  is  a  young  widow,  heiress  of  an 
old  rich  man  lately  deceased  ;  independent,  and  well  meriting  to  be 
so  ;  acquainted  with  many,  loved  by  just  as  many,  courted  by  just 
as  many  ;  yet,  if  I  mistake  not  very  greatly,  in  her  heart  wholly 
mine." 

With  joyful  vivacity,  as  the  father  kept  silence,  and  gave  no  sign 
of  disapproval,  the  son  proceeded  to  describe  the  conduct  of  the  fair 
widow  towards  him  ;  told  of  her  all-conquering  grace  ;  recounted  one 
by  one  her  tender  expressions  of  favor  ;  in  which  the  father  truly 
could  see  nothing  but  the  light  friendliness  of  a  universally-courted 
woman  who  among  so  many  may  indeed  prefer  some  one,  yet  without 
on  that  account  entirely  deciding  for  him.  Under  any  other  circum- 
stances he  would  doubtless  have  endeavored  to  warn  a  son,  nay,  even 
a  friend,  of  tha  self-deception  which  might  probably  enough  be  at 
work  here  ;  but  in  the  present  case  he  himself  was  so  anxious  for  his 
son's  being  right,  for  the  fair  widow's  reelly  loving  him,  and  as  soon 
as  possible  deciding  in  his  favor,  that  he  either  felt  no  scruple  of 
this  sort,  or  banished  any  such  from  his  mind,  perhaps  even  only  con- 
cealed it. 

"  Thou  placest  me  in  great  perplexity,"  began  the  father,  after 
some  pause.  "  The  whole  arrangement  between  the  surviving  mem- 
bers of  our  family  depends  on  the  understanding  that  thou  wed 
Hilaria.  If  she  wed  a  stranger,  the  whole  fair,  careful  combination 
of  a  fine  fortune  falls  to  the  ground  again,  and  thou  thyself  art  not 
Meister — 17 


514  ~  METSTEii  'S  TEA  VELS. 

too  well  provided  for.  Tliere  is  certainly  anotlier  way  still,  "but  one 
wWcli  sounds  rather  strange,  and  by  which  thou  wouldst  gain  very 
little  :  I,  in  my  old  days,  might  wed  Hilaria  ;  a  plan  which  could 
hardly  give  thee  any  very  high  satisfaction." 

"  The  highest  in  the  world  !  "  exclaimed  the  lieutenant ;  "  for  who 
can  feel  a  true  attachment,  who  can  enjoy  or  anticipate  the  happi- 
ness of  love,  without  wishing  every  friend,  every  one  whom  he 
values,  the  like  supreme  felicity  !  You  are  not  old,  father  ;  and 
how  lovely  is  Hilaria  !  Even  the  transient  thought  of  offering  her 
your  hand  bespeaks  a  youthful  heart,  an  unimpaired  spirit.  Let  us 
take  up  this  thought,  this  project,  on  the  spot,  and  consider  and  in- 
vestigate it  thoroughly.  My  own  happiness  would  be  complete,  if  I 
knew  you  happy  :  I  could  then  rejoice  in  good  earnest,  that  the  care 
you  had  bestowed  on  my  destiny  was  repaid  on  your  own  by  so  fair 
and  high  a  recompense.  I  can  now  with  confidence  and  frankness, 
and  true  openness  or  heart,  conduct  you  to  my  fair  one.  You  will 
approve  of  my  feelings,  since  you  yourself  feel  :  you  will  not  impede 
the  happiness  of  your  son,  since  you  are  advancing  to  your  own  hap- 
piness." 

With  these,  and  other  importunate  words,  the  lieutenant  repressed 
many  a  scruple  which  his  father  was  for  introducing  ;  left  him  no 
time  to  calculate,  but  hurried  off  \Vith  him  to  the  fair  widow  ;  whom 
they  found  in  a  commodious  and  splendid  house,  with  a  select  rather 
than  numerous  party,  all  engaged  in  cheerful  conversation.  She 
was  one  of  those  female  souls  whom  no  man  can  escape.  With  in- 
credible address  she  contrived  to  make  our  major  the  hero  of  this 
evening.  The  rest  of  the  party  seemed  to  be  her  family  ;  the  major 
alone  was  her  guest.  His  circumstances  she  already  knew  very  well  ; 
yet  she  had  the  skill  to  ask  about  them,  as  if  she  were  wishing,  now 
at  last,  to  get  right  information  on  the  subject  from  himself  ;  and  so, 
likewise,  every  individual  of  the  company  was  made  to  show  some 
interest  in  the  stranger.  One  must  have  known  his  brother,  a  sec- 
ond his  estates,  a  third  something  else  concerned  with  him  ;  so  that 
the  major,  in  the  midst  of  a  lively  conversation,  still  felt  himself  to 
be  the  center.  Moreover,  he  was  sitting  next  the  fair  one  ;  her  eyes 
were  on  him,  her  smile  was  directed  to  him  ;  in  a  word,  he  felt  him- 
self so  comfortable,  that  he  almost  forgot  the  cause  which  had 
brought  him.  She  herself  scarcely  ever  mentioned  his  son,  though 
the  young  man  took  a  keen  share  in  the  conversation  !  it  seemed  as 
if  in  her  eyes,  he,  like  all  the  rest,  was  present  only  on  his  father's 
account. 

The  guests  strolled  up  and  down  the  rooms,  and  grouped  them- 
selves into  accidental  knots.  The  lieutenant  stepped  up  to  his  fair 
one,  and  asked  :   "  What  say  you  to  my  father?  " 

With  a  smile  she  replied  :  "  Methinks  you  might  well  take  him 
as  a  pattern.  Do  but  look  how  neatly  he  is  dressed  !  If  his  manner 
and  bearing  are  not  better  than  his  gentle  son's  ! "     And  thus  she 


CHAPTER  XII.  515 

continued  to  cry  up  and  praise  the  father  at  the  son's  expense  ; 
awakening,  by  this  means,  a  very  mixed  feeling  of  contentment  and 
jealousy  in  the  young  man's  heart. 

Ere  long  the  lieutenant  came  in  contact  with  his  father,  and  re- 
counted all  this  to  him.  It  made  the  major's  manner  to  his  fair 
hostess  so  much  the  more  friendly  ;  and  she,  on  her  side,  began  to 
treat  him  on  a  more  lively  and  trustful  footing.  In  short,  we  may 
say  that,  when  the  company  broke  up,  the  major,  as  well  as  the 
rest  already  belonged  to  her,  and  to  her  circle. 

A  lieavy  rain  prevented  the  guests  from  returning  home  as  they 
had  come.  Some  coaches  drove  up,  into  which  the  walkers  arranged 
themselves  ;  only  the  lieutenant,  under  the  pretext  that  the  carriage 
was  already  too  crowded,  let  his  father  drive  away,  and  stayed  behind. 

The  major,  on  entering  his  apartment,  felt  actually  confused  and 
giddy  in  mind  ;  uncertain  of  himself  ;  as  is  the  case  with  us,  on  pass- 
ing rapidly  from  one  state  to  the  opposite.  The  land  still  seems  in 
motion  to  a  man  who  steps  from  shipboard  ;  and  the  light  still  quivers 
in  the  eye  of  him  who  comes  at  once  into  darkness.  So  did  the  major 
still  feel  himself  encircled  with  the  presence  of  that  fair  being.  He 
wished  still  to  see,  to  hear  her,  again  to  see,  again  to  hear  her  ;  and 
after  some  consideration  he  forgave  his  son  ;  nay,  he  thought  him 
happy  that  he  might  pretend  to  the  appropriation  of  such  loveliness. 

From  these  feelings  he  was  roused  by  the  lieutenant,  who  with 
lively  expressions  of  rapture,  rushed  into  the  room  ;  embraced  his 
father,  and  exclaimed  :  "  I  am  the  happiest  man  in  the  world  1 "  After 
several  more  of  such  preliminary  phrases,  the  two  at  last  came  to  an 
explanation.  The  father  remarked,  that  the  fair  lady  in  conversing 
with  him  had  not  mentioned  the  sou,  or  hinted  at  him  by  a  single 
syllable. — "  That  is  just  her  soft,  silent,  half-concealing,  half-discov- 
ering way  ;  by  which  you  become  certain  of  your  wishes,  and  yet 
can  never  altogether  get  rid  of  doubt.  So  was  she  wont  to  treat  me 
hitherto  ;  but  your  presence,  father,  has  done  wonders.  I  confess  it, 
I  stayed  behind,  that  I  might  see  her  one  moment  longer.  I  found 
her  walking  to  and  fro  in  her  still  shining  rooms  ;  for  I  know  it  is  her 
custom,  when  the  company  is  gone,  no  light  must  be  extinguished. 
She  walks  alone  up  and  down  in  her  magic  halls,  when  the  spirits  are 
dismissed  which  she  had  summoned  thither.  She  accepted  the  pre- 
text, under  cover  of  which  I  came  back.  She  spoke  with  kind  grace, 
though  of  indifferent  matters.  We  walked  to  and  fro  through  the 
open  doors,  along  the  whole  suite  of  chambers.  We  had  wandered 
several  times  to  the  end,  into  the  little  cabinet,  which  is  lighted  only 
by  a  dim  lamp.  If  she  was  beautiful  while  moving  under  the  blaze 
of  the  lusters,  she  was  infinitely  more  so  when  illuminated  by  the 
soft  gleam  of  the  lamp.  We  had  again  reached  the  cabinet ;  and,  in 
turning,  we  paused  for  an  instant.  I  know  not  what  it  was  that 
forced  this  audacity  on  me  ;  I  know  not  how  I  could  venture,  in  the 
midst  of  the  most  ordinary  conversation,  all  at  once  to  seize  her  hand, 


516  MEISTEH'S  TRAVELS. 

to  kiss  that  soft  hand,  and  to  press  it  to  my  heart.  It  was  not  drawn 
away.  '  Heavenly  creature  ! '  cried  I,  '  conceal  thyself  no  longer  from 
me.  If  in  this  fair  heart  dwells  favor  for  the  happy  man  who  stands 
before  thee,  disclose  it,  confess  it  !  The  present  is  the  best,  the  high- 
est time.     Banish  me,  or  take  me  to  thy  arms  ! ' 

"  I  know  not  what  all  I  said,  what  I  looked  and  expressed.  She 
withdrew  not,  she  resisted  not,  she  answered  not.  I  ventured  to  clasp 
her  in  my  arms,  to  ask  her  if  she  would  be  mine.  I  kissed  her  with 
rapture  ;  she  pushed  me  away.  '  Well,  yes,  then  ;  yes  !'  or  some 
such  words,  said  she,  in  a  faint  tone,  as  if  embarrassed.  I  retired, 
and  cried,  'I  will  send  my  father  ;  he  shall  speak  for  me.'  '  Not  a 
word  to  him  of  this  ! '  replied  she,  following  me  some  steps.  '  Go 
away  ;  forget  what  has  happened.'  " 

What  the  major  thought,  we  shall  not  attempt  to  unfold.  He  said, 
however,  to  his  son  :  "  What  is  to  be  done  now,  thinkest  thou?  To 
my  mind,  the  affair  is,  by  accident,  so  well  introduced,  that  we  may 
now  go  to  work  a  little  more  formally  ;  that  perhaps  it  were  well  if 
I  called  there  to-morrow,  and  proposed  in  thy  name." 

"for  Heaven's  sake,  no,  father  !  "  cried  the  son:  "  it  would  spoil 
the  whole  business.  That  look,  that  tone,  must  be  disturbed  and  de- 
ranged by  no  formality.  It  is  enough,  father,  that  your  presence 
accelerates  this  union,  without  your  uttering  a  word  on  the  subject. 
Yes,  it  is  to  you  that  I  owe  my  happiness  !  The  respect  which  my 
loved^oue  entertains  for  you  has  conquered  every  scruple  ;  and  never 
would  your  son  have  found  so  good  a  moment,  had  not  his  father 
prepared  it  for  him  !  " 

These  and  such  disclosures  occupied  them  till  far  in  the  night. 
They  mutually  settled  their  plans  ;  the  major,  simply  for  form's  sake, 
was  to  make  a  parting  call,  and  then  set  out  to  arrange  his  marriage 
witli  Hilaria  ;  the  son  was  to  forward  and  accelerate  his,  as  he  should 
find  it  possible. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

hersilia's  postscbipt. 

Hkre  I  break  ofi,  partly  because  I  can  write  no  more  at  present, 
hut  partly  also  to  fix  a  thorn  in  your  heart.  Now,  answer  the  ques- 
ti(jii  for  yourself.  How  strangely,  from  all  that  you  have  read,  must 
matters  stand  with  these  ladies  at  present  !  Till  now,  they  had  no 
mutual  relation  to  each  other  ;  they  were  strangers,  though  each 
seemed  to  have  the  prospect  of  a  marriage  which  was  to  approximate 
them.  And  now  we  find  them  in  company,  but  by  themselves,  with- 
out male  attendance,  and  wandering  over  the  world.  What  can  have 
passed,  what  can  be  to  follow?     You,  my  worthy  sir,  will  doubtless 


CHAPTER  XIII.  517 

get  quit  of  tlie  difficulty,  by  mournfully  exclaiming  to  yourself  : 
"  These,  also,  are  Reuunciants  !  "  And  here  you  are  perfectly  right ; 
but  Expectants,  too  ?     This  I  durst  not  discover,  even  if  1  knew  it. 

To  show  you  the  way  how  this  amiable  pair  may  -be  met  with  on 
your  wandering,  I  adopt  a  singular  expedient.  You  herewith  receive 
a  little  clipping  of  a  map  ;  when  you  lay  this  in  its  place  on  the  full 
map  of  the  country,  the  magnetic  needle  painted  here  will  point  with 
its  barb  to  the  spot  whither  the  desirable  are  moving.  This  riddle  is 
not  so  very  hard  to  read  ;  but  I  could  wish  that,  from  time  to  time, 
you  would  do  the  like  for  us,  and  send  a  little  snip  of  chart  over 
hither  ;  we  should  then,  in  some  measure,  understand  to  wliat  quar- 
ter our  thoughts  were  to  be  dii'ected  ;  and  how  glad  should  we  be,  if 
the  needle  were  at  last  attracted  by  ourselves.  May  all  good  be  given 
you,  and  all  errors  forgiven  ! 

It  is  said  of  women,  that  they  cannot  send  away  a  letter  without 
tacking  postscripts  to  the  end  of  it.  Whatever  inferences  you  may 
draw  from  the  fact,  I  cannot  deny  that  this  is  my  second  postscript, 
and  the  place,  after  all,  where  I  am  to  tell  you  the  flower  of  the  whole 
matter.  This  arrow  shaft,  on  the  little  patch  of  maj),  Hilaria  herself 
was  at  the  pains  to  draw,  and  to  decorate  with  such  dainty  plumage  : 
the  sharp  point,  however,  was  the  fair  widow's  work.  Have  a  care 
that  it  do  not  scratch,  or  perhaps  pierce  you.  Our  bargain  is,  that 
whenever  you  meet,  be  this  where  it  may,  you  are  forthwith  to  present 
the  small  shred  of  paper,  and  so  be  the  sooner  and  more  heartily 
admitted  into  trust. 

A  WORD   FROM  THE  EDITOR. 

That  a  certain  deficiency,  perhaps  discernible  in  the  parts,  certainly 
discernible  here  and  therein  the  whole,  cannot  henceforth  be  avoided, 
we  ourselves  take  courage  to  forewarn  the  reader,  Avithout  fearing 
thereby  to  thwart  his  enjoyment.  In  the  present  task,  undertaken 
truly  with  forethought  and  good  heart,  we  still  meet  with  all  the 
inconveniences  which  have  delayed  the  publication  of  these  little 
volumes  for  twenty  years.  This  period  has  altered  nothing  for  the 
better.  We  still  find  ourselves  in  more  than  one  way  impeded  ;  at 
this  or  that  place,  threatened  with  one  obstruction  or  another.  For 
we  have  to  solve  the  uncertain  problem  of  selecting  from  those  most 
multifarious  papers  what  is  worthiest  and  most  important,  so  that  it 
be  grateful  to  thinking  and  cultivated  minds,  and  refresh  and  forward 
them  in  many  a  province  of  life.  Now  here  are  the  journals,  more 
or  less  complete,  lying  before  us  ;  sometimes  communicable  without 
scruple  ;  sometimes,  again,  by  reason  of  their  unimportant,  and  like- 
wise of  their  too  important  contents,  seemingly  unfit  for  insertion. 

There  are  not  even  wanting  sections  devoted  to  the  actual  world  ; 
on  statistic,  technical  and  other  practical  external  subjects.  To  cut 
these  ofF  as  incongruous,  we  do  not  determine  without  reluctance,  as 


518  MEISTER'8  TEAVELS. 

life  and  inclination,  knowledge  and  passion,  strangely  combining 
together,  go  on  here  in  the  straitest  union. 

Tlien  we  come  on  sketches  written  with  clear  views,  and  for  glori- 
ous objects  ;  but-  not  so  consequent  and  deep-searching,  that  we  can 
fully  approve  of  them,  or  supjjose  that,  in  this  new  and  so  far  advanced 
time,  they  could  be  readable  and  influential. 

So  likewise  we  fall  in  with  little  anecdotes,  destitute  of  connection, 
diflBcult  to  arrange  under  heads  ;  some  of  them,  when  closely  exam- 
ined, not  altogether  unobjectionable.  Here  and  there  we  discover 
more  complete  narratives,  several  of  which,  though  already  known  to 
the  world,  nevertheless  demand  a  place  here,  and  at  the  same  time 
require  exposition  and  conclusion.  Of  poems,  also,  there  is  no  want ; 
and  yet  it  is  not  always  easy,  not  always  possible,  to  decide  where 
they  should  be  introduced,  with  best  regard  to  the  preserving  and 
assisting  of  their  true  tone,  which  is  but  too  easily  disturbed  and  over- 
turned. If  we  are  not,  therefore,  as  we  have  too  often  done  in  bygone 
years,  again  to  stop  in  the  middle  of  this  business,  nothing  will  remain 
for  us  but  to  impart  what  we  possess,  to  give  out  what  has  been  pre- 
served. Some  chapters,  accordingly,  the  completion  of  which  might 
have  been  desirable,  we  now  offer  in  their  first  hurried  form  ;  that, 
so  the  reader  may  not  only  feel  the  existence  of  a  want  here,  but  also 
be  informed  what  this  want  is,  and  complete  in  his  own  mind  what- 
ever, partly  from  the  nature  of  the  object,  partly  from  the  interven- 
ing circumstances,  cannot  be  presented  to  him  perfectly  completed  in 
itself,  or  furnished  with  all  its  requisite  accompaniments. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


The  proposed  riddle  raised  some  scruples  in  Wilhelm's  mind  ;  yet 
ere  long  he  began  to  feel  a  still  attraction  in  the  matter,  an  impulse 
of  longing  to  reach  tliat  appointed  line,  and  follow  its  direction  ;  as, 
indeed,  we  are  wont  to  seize  with  eagerness  any  specific  object,  that 
excites  our  imagination,  our  active  faculties,  and  to  wish  that  Ave 
might  accomplish  it  and  partake  of  it. 

A  child  that,  in  asking  alms  of  us,  puts  into  our  hand  a  card  with 
five  lottery  numbers  written  on  it,  we  do  not  lightly  turn  away  un- 
served ;  and  it  depends  on  the  moment,  especially  if  it  be  shortly 
before  the  draAving,  whether  we  shall  not,  with  accidentally  stimu- 
lated hope,  quite  against  our  usual  custom,  stake  heavy  shares  upon 
these  very  numbers. 

The  wanderer  now  tried  on  a  large  map  the  little  fragment  which 
had  been  sent  him  ;  and  .stood  surprised,  amazed,  affrighted,  as  he 
saw  the  needle  pointing  straight  to  Mignon's  native  place,  to  the 
houses  where  she  had  lived.     What  his  peculiar  feelings  were,  we 


CHAPTER  XIV.  519 

do  not  find  declared  ;  but  whoever  can  bring  back  to  memory  the  end 
of  the  "  Apprenticeship,"  will  in  his  own  heart  and  mind,  without 
difficulty,  call  forth  the  like. 

The  chief  cause,  however,  why  we  meet  with  scantier  records  of 
this  excursion  than  we  could  have  wished,  may  probably  be  this  : 
that  Wilhelm  chanced  to  fall  in  with  a  young  lively  companion  of 
his  journey,  by  means  of  whom  it  became  easy  to  retain  for  himself 
and  his  friends  a  vivid  and  strong  remembrance  of  this  pious  pilgrim- 
age, without  any  aid  of  writing.  Unexpectedly  he  finds  himself 
beside  a  painter  ;  one  of  that  class  of  persons  whom  we  often  see 
wandering  about  the  world,  and  still  oftener  figuring  in  romances  and 
dramas  ;  but  in  this  case.'an  individual  who  showed  himself  at  once 
to  be  really  a  distinguished  artist.  The  two  very  soon  got  acquainted  ; 
mutually  communicated  their  desires,  projects,  purposes.  And  now 
it  appears  that  this  skillful  artist,  who  deliglits  in  painting  aquatic 
landscapes,  and  can  decorate  his  pieces  with  rich,  well-imagined,  well- 
executed  additions  and  accompaniments,  lias  been  passionately  at- 
tracted by  Mignon's  form,  destiny,  and  being.  He  has  often  painted 
her  already,  and  is  now  going  forth  to  copy  from  nature  the  scenes' 
where  she  passed  her  early  years  ;  amid  these  to  represent  the  dear 
child,  in  happy  and  unhappy  circumstances  and  moments,  and  thus 
to  make  her  image,  which  lives  in  all  tender  hearts,  present  also  to; 
the  sense  of  the  eye. 

The  friends  soon  reach  the  Lago  Maggiore  ;  Wilhelm  endeavors, 
by  degrees,  to  find  out  the  places  indicated.  Rural  palaces,  spacious 
monasteries,  ferries  and  bays,  capes  and  landings,  are  visited  ;  nor 
are  the  dwellings  of  courageous  and  kind-hearted  fishermen  for- 
gotten ;  or  the  cheerfully-built  villages  along  the  shore,  or  the  gay 
mansions  on  the  neighboring  heights.  All  this  the  artist  can  seize  ; 
to  all  of  it  communicate,  by  light  and  coloring,-  the  feeling  suitable 
for  each  scene  ;  so  that  Wilhelm  passes  his  days  and  his  hours  in 
heart-searching  emotion. 

In  several  of  the  leaves  stood  Mignon  represented  on  the  foreground 
as  she  had  looked  and  lived  ;  Wilhelm,  striving  by  correct  description, 
to  assist  the  happy  imagination  of  his  friend,  and  reduce  these  gen- 
eral conceptions  within  the  stricter  limits  of  individuality. 

And  thus  you  might  see  the  boy-girl,  set  forth  in  various  attitudes 
and  manifold  expression.  Beneath  the  lofty  portal  of  the  splendid 
country  house,  she  is  standing,  thouglitfully  contemplating  the  mar- 
ble statues  in  the  hall.  Here  she  rocks  herself,  plashing  to  and  fro 
among  the  waters,  in  the  fastened  boat  ;  there  she  climbs  the  mast, 
and  shows  herself  as  a  fearless  sailor. 

But,  distinguished  beyond  all  the  other  pictures,  was  one  which  the 
arti.st,  on  his  journey  hither,  and  prior  to  his  meeting  with  Wilhelm, 
liatl  coml)ined  and  painted  with  all  its  characteristic  features.  In 
the  )ieart  of   the  rude  mountains  sliines  the  graceful    seeTning-boy, 


520  MEISTER'8  TRAVELS. 

encircled  witli  toppling  cliffs,  besprayed  with  cataracts,  in  tlie  middle 
of  a  motley  horde.  Never,  perhaps,  was  a  grim,  precipitous,  prime- 
val mountain-pass  more  beautifully  or  expressively  relieved  with 
living  figures.  The  parti-colored,  gipsy-looking  group,  at  once  rude 
and  fantastic,  strange  and  common,  too  loose  to  cause  fear,  too  singu- 
lar to  awaken  confidence.  Stout  beasts  of  burden  are  bearing  along, 
now  over  paths  made  of  trees,  now  down  by  steps  hewn  in  the  rock, 
a  tawdry  chaotic  heap  of  luggage,  round  which  all  the  instruments  of 
a  deafening  music  hang  dangling  to  and  fi'o,  to  affright  the  ear  from 
time  to  time  with  rude  tones.  Amid  all  this,  the  lovely  child,  self- 
collected  without  defiance,  indignant  without  resistance,  led  but  not 
dragged.  Who  would  not  have  looked  with  pleasure  at  this  singular 
and  impressive  picture  ?  Given  in  strong  characters,  frowned  the 
stern  obstruction  of  these  rock  masses,  riven  asunder  by  gloomy 
chasms,  towered  up  together,  threatening  to  hinder  all  outgate,  had 
not  a  bold  bridge  betokened  the  possibility  of  again  coming  into  union 
with  the  rest  of  the  world.  Nor  had  the  artist,  with  his  quick  feel- 
ing of  fictitious  truth,  forgot  to  indicate  the  entrance  of  a  cave,  which 
you  might  equally  regard  as  the  natural  laboratory  of  huge  crystals, 
or  as  the  abode  of  a  fabulously  frightful  brood  of  dragons. 

Not  without  a  holy  fear  did  our  friends  visit  the  marchese's  palace. 
The  old  man  was  still  absent  on  his  travels  ;  but  in  this  circle  also, 
the  two  wanderers,  knowing  well  how  to  apply  and  conduct  them- 
selves both  towards  spiritual  and  temporal  authorities,  were  kindly 
received  and  entertained. 

The  absence  of  the  OAvner  also  was  to  Wilhelm  very  pleasant  ;  for 
although  he  could  have  wished  to  see  the  worthy  gentleman,  and 
would  have  heartily  saluted  him,  he  felt  afraid  of  the  marchese's 
thankful  generosity,  and  of  any  forced  recompense  of  that  true  loving 
conduct,  for  which  he  had  already  obtained  the  fairest  reward. 

And  thus  our  friends  went  floating  in  gay  boats  from  shore  to 
shore,  cruising  the  lake  in  every  direction.  It  was  the  fairest  season 
of  the  year  ;  and  they  missed  neither  sunrise  nor  sunset,  nor  any  of 
the  thousand  shadings  which  the  heavenly  light  first  bounteously 
dispenses  over  its  own  firmament,  and  from  thence  over  lake  and 
land  ;  not  appearing  itself  in  its  perfect  glory,  till  imaged  back  from 
the  waters. 

A  luxuriant  vegetable  world,  planted  by  nature,  watched  over  and 
forwarded  by  art,  on  every  side  surrounded  them.  The  first  chestnut 
forests  they  had  already  greeted  with  welcome  ;  and  now  they  could 
not  restrain  a  mournful  smile,  as,  lying  under  the  shade  of  cypresses, 
they  saw  the  laurel  mounting  up  ;  the  pomegranates  reddening  ; 
orange  and  lemon  trees  unfolding  themselves  in  blossoms,  and  fruit 
at  the  same  time  glowing  fortli  from  the  leafy  gloom. 

Through  means  of  his  vivid  associate,  Wilhelm  had  another  enjoy- 
ment prepared  for  him.  Our  old  friend  had  not  been  favored  by 
nature  with  the  eye  of  a  painter.     Susceptible  of  visual  beauty  only 


CHAPTER  XIV.  521 

in  the  human  form,  he  now  felt  that,  by  the  presence  of  a  companion, 
alike  disposed,  but  trained  to  quite  different  enjoyments  and  activities, 
the  surrounding  world  also  was  opened  to  his  sight. 

By  viewing,  under  conversational  direction  the  changing  glories  of 
the  region,  and  still  more  by  concentrated  imitation,  his  eyes  were 
opened,  and  his  mind  freed  from  all  its  once  obstinate  doubts. 
Hitherto  all  copies  of  Italian  scenery  had  seemed  to  him  suspicious  ; 
the  sky,  he  thought,  was  too  blue  ;  the  violet  tone  of  those  charm- 
ing distances  was  lovely  but  untrue,  and  the  abundant  fresh  green  too 
bright  and  gay  ;  but  now  he  united  in  his  inmost  perceptions  with  his 
new  friend  ;  and  learned,  susceptible  as  he  was,  to  look  at  the  earth 
with  that  friend's  eyes  ;  and  while  nature  unfolded  the  open  secret 
of  her  beauty,  he  could  not  but  feel  an  irresistible  attraction  towards 
art,  as  towards  her  most  fit  exxiositor. 

But  his  pictorial  friend  quite  unexpectedly  anticipated  his  wishes 
in  another  point.  The  artist  had  already  many  times  started  some  gay 
song  ;  and  thus,  in  hours  of  rest,  delightfully  enlivened  and  accom- 
panied their  movement,  when  out  in  long  voyages  over  the  water. 
But  now  it  happened,  that  in  one  of  the  palaces  they  were  visiting,  he 
found  a  curious  peculiar  stringed  instrument  ;  a  lute  of  small  size, 
strong,  well-toned,  convenient,  and  portable  :  he  soon  contrived  to 
tune  it  ;  and  then  handled  the  strings  so  pleasantly,  and  so  well 
entertained  those  about  him  that,  like  a  new  Orpheus,  he  subdued 
by  soft  harmonies  tlie  usually  rigorous  and  dry  castellain,  and  kindly 
constrained  him  to  lend  the  instrument  for  a  time  ;  under  the  condition 
that  before  departing,  the  singer  should  faithfully  return  it  ;  and  in 
the  interim,  should  come  back  some  Sunday  or  holiday,  and  again 
gratify  them  by  his  music. 

Quite  another  spirit  now  enlivened  lake  and  shore  ;  boat  and  skiff 
strove  which  should  be  nearest  our  friends  ;  even  freight  and  market 
barges  lingered  in  their  neighborhood  ;  rows  of  people  on  the  beach 
followed  their  course  ;  when  landing,  they  were  encircled  by  a  gay- 
minded  throng  ;  wben  departing,  each  blessed  them,  with  a  heart 
contented,  yet  full  of  longing. 

And  now,  at  last,  to  any  third  party  who  had  watched  our  friends,, 
it  must  have  been  apparent  enough  that  their  mission  was,  in  fact, 
accomplished  :  all  scenes  and  localities  referring  to  Mignon  had  been 
not  only  sketched,  but  partly  brought  into  light,  shade  and  color  ; 
partly,  in  warm,  midday  hours,  finished  with  the  utmost  fidelity. 
In  effecting  this,  they  had  shifted  from  place  to  place  in  a  peculiar 
way,  as  Wilhelm's  vow  frequently  impeded  them  :  this,  however, 
they  had  now  and  then  contrived  to  evade,  by  explaining  it  as  valid 
only  on  land,  and  on  water  not  applicable. 

Indeed  Wilhelm  himself  now  felt  that  their  special  purpose  was 
attained  ;  yet  he  could  not  deny  that  the  wish  to  see  Hilaria  and  the 
fair  widow  must  also  be  satisfied,  if  he  wished  to  leave  this  country 
with  a  free  mind.     His  friend,  to  whom  he  had  imparted  their  story, 


523  MEISTER'8  TRAVELS. 

was  no  less  curious  ;  and  already  prided  liimself  in  the  thought  that 
in  one  of  his  paintings  there  was  a  vacant  space,  which,  as  an  artist, 
he  might  decorate  with  the  forms  of  these  gentle  persons. 

Accordingly,  they  now  cruised  to  and  fro,  watching  the  points 
where  strangers  are  wont  first  to  enter  this  paradise.  Their  hope  of 
meeting  friends  here  had  already  been  made  known  to  the  boatmen  ; 
and  the  search  had  not  lasted  long,  when  there  came  in  sight  a 
splendid  barge  ;  which  they  instantly  made  chase  of,  and  forbore  not 
passionately  to  grapple  with,  on  reaching  it.  The  dames,  in  some 
degree  alarmed  at  this  movement,  soon  recovered  their  composure  as 
Wilhelm  produced  his  little  piece  of  chart,  and  the  two,  without 
hesitation,  recognized  the  arrow  which  themselves  had  drawn  on  it. 
The  friends  were  kindly  invited  to  come  on  board  the  ladies'  barge  ; 
which  they  did  without  an  instant's  delay. 

And  now  let  us  figure  to  ourselves  these  four  ;  as  they  sit  together 
in  the  daintiest  apartment,  the  most  blissful  world  lying  round  them  ; 
looking  in  each  other's  faces  ;  fanned  by  soft  airs  ;  rocked  on  glit- 
tering waves.  Imagine  the  female  pair,  as  we  lately  saw  them  de- 
scribed ;  the  male,  as  they  have  together  for  weeks  been  leading  a 
wayfaring  life  ;  and  after  a  little  reflection,  we  behold  them  all  in  the 
most  delightful,  but  also  the  most  dangerous  situation. 

For  the  three  who  have  before,  willingly  or  unwillingly,  ranked 
themselves  in  the  number  of  Renunciants,  we  have  not  the  worst  to 
fear  ;  the  fourth,  however,  may  probably  enough  too  soon  see  himself 
admitted  into  that  order,  like  the  others. 

After  crossing  the  lake  several  times,  and  pointing  out  the  most 
interesting  spots  both  on  the  shore  and  the  islands,  our  two  wan- 
derers conducted  their  fair  friends  to  the  place  they  were  to  pass  the 
night  in  ;  where  the  dexterous  guide,  selected  for  this  voyage,  had 
taken  care  to  provide  all  possible  conveniences.  Wilhelm's  vow  was 
now  a  harsh  but  suitable  master  of  the  ceremonies  ;  for  he  and  his 
companion  had  already  passed  three  days  in  this  very  station,  and 
exhausted  all  that  was  remarkable  in  the  environs.  The  artist,  not 
restrained  by  any  vow,  begged  permission  to  attend  the  dames  on 
shore  ;  this,  however  they  declined  ;  and  so  the  party  separated  at 
'some  distance  from  the  harbor. 

Scarcely  had  the  singer  stepped  into  his  skiff,  which  hastily  drew 
back  from  the  beach,  when  he  seized  his  lute  ;  and  gracefully  began 
raising  that  strangely  plaintive  song,  which  the  Venetian  gondoliers 
send  forth  in  clear  melody  from  land  to  sea  and  from  sea  to  land. 
Expert  enough  in  this  feat,  which,  in  the  present  instance,  proceeded 
with  peculiar  tenderness  and  expression,  he  strengthened  his  voice 
in  proportion  to  the  increasing  distance,  so  that  on  the  shore  you 
would  have  thought  you  heard  him  still  singing  in  the  same  place. 
He  at  last  laid  his  lute  aside,  trusting  to  his  voice  alone  ;  and  had 
the  satisfaction  to  observe  that  the  dames,  instead  of  retiring  into 
their  house,  were  pleased  to  linger  on  the  shore.     He  felt  so  inspired 


CHAPTER  XIV.  523 

that  he  could  not  cease  ;  not  even  when  night  and  remoteness  had 
withdrawn  everything  from  view  ;  till  at  last  his  calmer  friend  re- 
minded him  that,  if  darkness  did  favor  his  tones,  the  skiff  had 
already  long  passed  the  limits  within  which  these  could  take  ef- 
fect. 

According  to  promise,  the  two  parties  again  met  next  day  on  the 
open  lake.  Flying  along,  they  formed  acquaintance  with  the  lovely 
series  of  prospects,  now  standing  forth  in  separate  distinction,  then 
gathered  into  rows,  and  seen  behind  each  other,  and  at  last  fading 
away,  as  the  higher  eclipsed  the  lower  ;  all  which,  repeating  itself  in 
the  waters,  affords  in  such  excursions  the  most  varied  entertainment. 
Nor,  in  the  course  of  these  sights,  did  the  copies  of  them,  from  our 
artist's  portfolio,  fail  to  awaken  thoughts  and  anticipations  of  what, 
in  the  present  hour,  was  not  imparted.  For  all  such  matters  the  still 
Hilaria  seemed  to  have  a  free  and  fair  feeling.  • 

But  towards  noon,  singularity  again  came  into  play  :  the  ladies 
landed  alone;  the  men  cruised* before  the  harbor.  And  now  the 
singer  endeavored  to  acconmiodate  his  music  to  a  shoi-ter  distance, 
where  not  only  the  general,  soft  and  quickly-warbling  tone  of  desire, 
but  likewise  a  certain  gay,  graceful  importunity,  might  be  expected 
to  tell.  And  here,  now  and  then,  some  one  or  other  of  the  songs,  for 
which  we  stand  indebted  to  our  friends  in  the  "  Apprenticeshiii," 
would  come  hovering  over  his  strings,  over  his  lips  ;  but  out  of  well- 
meant  regard  to  the  feelings  of  his  hearers,  as  well  as  to  his  own,  he 
restrained  himself  in  this  particular  ;  and  roved  at  large  in  foreign 
images  and  emotions,  whereby  his  performance  gained  in  effect,  and 
reached  the  ear  with  so  much  the  more  insinuating  blandishment. 
The  two  friends,  blockading  the  harbor  in  this  way,  would  not  liaA'e 
recollected  the  trivial  concern  of  eating  and  drinking,  had  not  the 
more  provident  fair  ones  sent  them  over  a  supply  of  dainty  bits  ;  to 
which  an  accompanying  draught  of  wine  had  the  best  possible  relish. 

Every  separation,  every  stipulation  that  comes  in  the  way  of  our 
gathering  passions,  sharpens  instead  of  stifling  them  ;  and  in  this  case, 
as  in  others,  it  may  be  presumed  that  the  short  absence  had  awakened 
equal  longing  in  both  parties.  At  all  events,  the  dames,  in  their  gay 
dazzling  gondola,  were  very  soon  to  be  seen  coming  back. 

This  word  gondola,  however,  let  us  not  take  up  in  the  melancholy 
Venetian  meaning  :  here  it  signifies  a  cheerful,  commodious,  social 
bark  ;  which,  had  our  little  company  been  twice  as  large,  would  still 
have  been  spacious  enough  for  them. 

Some  days  were  spent  in  this  peculiar  way,  between  meeting  and 
parting,  between  separation  and  social  union  ;  but  amid  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  most  delightful  intercourse,  departure  and  bereavement 
still  hovered  before  the  agitated  soul.  In  presence  of  the  new  friends, 
the  old  came  back  into  tlie  mind  ;  were  these  new  ones  absent,  each 
could  not  but  admit  that  already  they  had  taken  deep  root  in  his 
remembrance.     None  but  a  composed  and  tried  spirit,  like  our  fair 


524  MEISTER'S  TBAVEL8. 

widow,  could  in  such  moments  have  maintained  herself  in  complete 
equilibrium. 

Hilaria's  heart  had  been  too  deeply  wounded  to  admit  of  any  new 
entire  impression  ;  but  as  the  grace  of  a  fair  scene  encircles  us  of  itself 
with  soothing  influences  ;  so  when  the  mildness  of  tender-hearted 
friends  conspires  with  it,  there  comes  over  sense  and  soul  a  peculiar 
mood  of  softness,  that  recalls  to  us,  as  in  dreaming  visions,  the  past 
and  the  absent,  and  withdraws  the  present,  as  if  it  were  but  a  show, 
into  spiritual  remoteness.  Thus,  alternately  rocked  this  way  and 
that,  attracted  and  repelled,  approximated  and  removed,  they  wavered 
and  wended  for  several  days. 

Without  more  narrowly  investigating  these  circumstances,  the 
shrewd,  experienced  guide  imagined  he  observed  some  alteration  in 
the  calm  demeanor  of  his  heroines  ;  and  wlien,  at  last,  the  whimsical 
part  of  their  predicament  became  known  to  him,  he  contrived  here 
also  to  devise  the  most  grateful  expedient.  For  as  our  two  shipmen 
were  again  conducting  the  ladies  te  their  usual  place  of  dinner,  they 
were  met  by  another  gay  bark  ;  which,  falling  alongside  of  theirs, 
exhibited  a  well-covered  table,  with  all  the  cheerful  invitations  of  a 
festive  repast  ;  the  friends  could  now  wait  in  company  the  lapse  of 
several  hours  ;  and  only  night  decided  the  customary  separation. 

Happily  the  artist  and  Wilhelm  had  in  their  former  voyagings  neg 
lected,  out  of  a  certain  natural  caprice,  to  visit  the  most  highly 
ornamented  of  all  the  islands,  and  had  even  yet  never  thought  of 
showing  to  their  fair  friends  the  many  artificial  and  somewhat  dilapi- 
dated curiosities  of  the  place,  before  these  glorious  scenes  of  creation 
were  entirely  gone  throiagh.  At  last,  however,  new  light  rose  on 
their  minds.  They  took  counsel  with  the  guide  ;  he  contrived  forth- 
with to  expedite  their  voyage,  and  all  looked  on  it  as  the  most  blissful 
they  had  yet  undertaken.  They  could  now  hope  and  expect,  after  so 
many  interrupted  joys,  to  spend  three  whole  heavenly  days,  assem- 
bled together  in  a  sequestered  abode. 

And  here  we  cannot  but  bestow  on  this  guide  our  high  commenda- 
tion ;  he  belonged  to  that  nimble,  active,  dexterous  class,  Avho,  in 
attendance  on  successive  parties,  often  travel  the  same  roads  ;  per- 
fectly acquainted  with  the  conveniences  and  inconveniences  on  all  of 
them,  they  understand  how  to  use  the  one  and  evade  the  other  ;  and, 
without  leaving  their  own  profit  out  of  sight,  still  to  conduct  their 
patrons  more  clieaply  and  pleasantly  through  the  country,  than  with- 
out such  aid  would  have  been  possible. 

At  this  time,  also,  a  sufficient  female  train  belonging  to  our  dames, 
for  the  first  time  stepped  forth  in  decided  activity  ;  and  the  fair  widow 
could  now  make  it  one  of  her  conditions,  that  the  friends  were  to 
remain  with  lier  as  guests,  and  content  themselves  with  what  she 
called  her  moderate  entertainment.  In  this  point,  too,  all  prospered  ; 
for  the  cunning  functionary  had,  on  this  occasion,  as  on  others,  con- 
trived to  make  so  good  a  use  of  the  letters  and  introductions  which 


CHAPTER  XIV.  525 

liis  heroines  bad  brought  with  them,  that,  the  owner  of  the  place  they 
were  now  about  to  xasit  being  absent,  both  castle  and  garden,  kitchen 
included,  were  thrown  open  for  the  service  of  the  strangers  ;  nay, 
some  prospect  was  held  out  even  of  the  celhir.    All  things  co-operated, 
so  harmoniously,  that  our  wanderers,  from  tlie  very  first  moment,  felti 
themselves  as  if  at  home,  as  if  born  lords  of  this  paradise.  '- 

The  whole  luggage  of  the  party  was  now  carried  to  tlie  island,  an 
arrangement  producing  much  convenience  to  all  ;  though  the  chief 
advantage  aimed  at  was,  that  the  portfolios  of  our  artist,  now  for  the 
first  time  all  collected  together,  might  afford  him  means  to  exhibit,  in 
continuous  sequence,  to  his  fair  hostesses  the  route  he  had  followed. 
This  task  was  undertaken  by  all  parties  with  delight.  Not  that  tliey 
proceeded  in  the  common  style  of  amateur  and  artist,  mutually  eulo- 
gizing :  here  was  a  gifted  man,  rewarded  by  the  most  sincere  and 
judicious  praise.  But  that  we  fall  not  into  the  suspicion  of  attempt- 
ing, with  general  phrases,  to  palm  on  credulous  readers  what  we  could 
not  openly  show  them,  let  us  here  insert  the  judgment  of  a  critic,  who 
some  years  afterwards  viewed  with  studious  admiration  both  the 
pieces  here  in  question,  and  the  others  of  a  like  or  similar  sort,  by  the 
same  hand  : 

"  He  succeeds  in  representing  the  cheerful  rejwseof  lake  prospects, 
where  houses  in  friendly  approximation,  imaging  themselves  in  the 
clear  wave,  seem  as  if  bathing  in  its  depths  ;  shores  encircled  with 
green  hills,  behind  which  rise  forest  mountains,  and  icy  peaks  of 
glaciers.  The  tone  of  coloring  in  such  scenes  is  gay,  mirthfully  clear  ; 
the  distances,  as  if  overflowed  with  softening  vapor,  which  from 
watered  hollows  and  river  valleys  mounts  up  grayer  and  mistier,  and 
indicates  their  windings.  No  less  is  the  master's  art  to  be  praised  in 
views  from  valleys  lying  nearer  the  high  Alpine  ranges  ;  where  de- 
clivities slope  down,  luxuriantly  overgrown,  and  fresh  streams  roll 
hastily  along  by  the  foot  of  rocks. 

"  With  exquisite  skill,  in  the  deep  shady  trees  of  the  foreground,: 
he  gives  the  distinctive  character  of  the  several  species  ;  satisfying  us 
in  the  form  of  the  whole,  as  in  the  structure  of  the  branches,  and  the 
details  of  the  leaves  ;  no  less  so,  in  the  fresh  green  with  its  manifold 
shadings,  where  soft  airs  appear  as  if  fanning  us  with  benignant 
breath,  and  the  lights  as  if  thereby  put  in  motion. 

"In  the  middle  ground,  his  lively  green  tone  grows  fainter  by 
degrees  ;  and  at  last,  on  the  more  distant  mountain-tops,  i)assing  into 
weak  violet,  weds  itself  with  the  blue  of  the  sky.  But  our  artist  is, 
above  all,  happy  in  his  paintings  of  high  Alpine  regions  ;  in  seizing 
the  simple  greatness  and  stillness  of  their  character  ;  the  wide  pas- 
tures on  the  slopes,  clothed  with  the  freshest  green,  where  dark, 
solitary  firs  stand  forth  from  the  grassy  carpet ;  and  from  high  cliffs 
foaming  brooks  rush  down.  Whether  he  relieves  his  pasturages  with 
grazing  cattle,  or  the  narrow,  winding,  rocky  path  with  mules  and 
laden  pack-horses,  he  paints  all  with  equal  truth  and  richness  ;  still 


526  MEIStER' 8  TRAVELS. 

introduced  in  the  proper  place  and  not  in  too  great  copiousness,  they 
decorate  and  enliven  these  scenes,  without  interrupting,  without  lessen- 
ing their  peaceful  solitude.  The  execution  testifies  a  master's  hand  ; 
easy,  with  a  few  sure  strokes,  and  yet  complete.  In  his  later  pieces, 
he  employed  glittering  English  permanent  colors  on  paper :  these 
pictures,  accordingly,  are  of  pre-eminently  blooming  tone  ;  cheerful, 
yet,  at  the  same  time,  strong  and  sated. 

"His  views  of  deep  mountain  chasms,  where  round  and  round 
nothing  fronts  us  but  dead  rock  ;  where,  in  the  abyss,  overspanned 
by  its  bold  arch,  the  wild  stream  rages,  are  indeed  of  less  attraction 
than  the  former ;  yet  their  truth  excites  us  ;  we  admire  the  great 
effect  of  the  whole,  produced  at  so  little  cost,  by  a  few  expressive 
strokes,  and  masses  of  local  colors. 

"  With  no  less  accuracy  of  character  can  he  represent  the  regions 
of  the  topmost  Alpine  ranges,  where  neither  tree  nor  shrub  any  more 
appears  ;  but  only,  amid  the  rocky  teeth  and  snow  summits,  a  few 
sunny  spots  clothe  themselves  with  a  soft  sward.  Beautiful,  and 
balmy,  and  inviting  as  he  colors  these  spots,  he  has  here  wisely  for- 
borne to  introduce  grazing  herds  ;  for  these  regions  give  food  only  to 
the  chamois,  and  a  perilous  employment  to  the  wild-hay  men. " 

"  We  shall  not  deviate  from  our  purpose  of  bringing  the  condition 
of  these  waste  'Iscenes  as  close  as  possible  to  the  conception  of  our 
readers,  if  to  this  word,  wild-hay  man,  or  wild-heuer,  we  subjoin  a 
short  explanation.  It  is  a  name  given  to  the  poorer  inhabitants  of 
the  upland  Alpine  ranges,  who  occupy  themselves  in  making  hay 
from  such  grassy  spots  as  are  inaccessible  to  cattle.  For  this  purpose, 
they  climb,  with  clamps  on  their  feet,  the  steepest  and  most  danger- 
ous cliffs  ;  or  from  high  crags  let  themselves  down  by  ropes,  when 
this  is  necessary  ;  and  so  reach  these  grassy  patches.  The  grass  once 
cut  and  dried  to  hay,  they  throw  it  down  from  the  heights  into  the 
deeper  valleys  ;  where  being  collected  together,  it  is  sold  to  cattle 
owners,  with  whom,  on  account  of  its  superior  quality,  it  finds  a  ready 
market." 

These  paintings,  which  must  have  gratified  and  attracted  any  eye, 
were  viewed  by  Hilaria,  in  particular,  with  great  attention  ;  and  from 
her  observations  it  became  clear,  that  in  this  department  she  herself 
was  no  stranger.  To  the  artist,  least  of  all,  did  this  continue  secret ; 
nor  could  approval  from  any  one  have  been  more  precious  to  him, 
than  from  this  most  graceful  of  all  jjersons.  Her  companion,  there- 
fore, kept  silence  no  longer,  but  blamed  Hilaria  for  not  coming  forward 
with  her  own  accomplishment,  but  lingering  in  this  case  as  she  always 
did  ;  now  where  the  question  was  not,  of  being  praised  or  blamed, 
but  of  being  instructed.  A  fairer  opportunity,  she  said,  might  jjfeX 
easily  occur. 

And  now  it  came  to  light,  when  she  was  thus  forced  to  exhibit  her 


CHAPTER  XIV.  527 

portfolios,  what  a  talent  was  lying  hid  behind  this  still  and  most 
lovelv  nature  :  the  capacity  had  been  derived  from  birth,  and  dili- 
gently cultivated  by  practice.  She  possessed  a  true  eye  ;  a  delicate 
hand,  such  as  women,  accustomed  to  use  it  in  their  dressing  and 
decorating  operations,  find  available  in  higher  art.  You  might,  doubt- 
less, observe  unsureness  in  the  strokes  ;  and,  in  consequence,  a  too 
undecided  character  in  the  objects  ;  but  you  could  not  help  admiring 
the  most  faithful  execution  ;  though  the  whole  was  not  seized  in  its 
happiest  effect,  not  grouped  and  adjusted  with  the  skill  of  an  artist. 
She  is  afraid,  you  would  say,  of  profaning  her  object,  if  she  keep  not 
completely  true  to  it  ;  hence  she  becomes  precise  and  stiff,  and  loses 
herself  in  details. 

But  now,  by  the  great  free  talent,  by  the  bold  hand  of  the  artist, 
she  feels  rising,  awakening  within  her,  whatever  genuine  feeling  and 
taste  had  till  now  slumbered  in  her  mind  ;  she  perceives  that  she  has 
bat  to  take  heart,  and  earnestly  and  punctually  to  follow  some  fun- 
damental maxims,  which  the  artist,  with  penetrating  judgment  and 
friendly  importunity,  is  repeating  and  impressing  on  her.  That  sure- 
ness  of  stroke  comes  of  its  own  accord  ;  she  by  degrees  dwells  less  on 
the  parts  than  on  the  whole  ;  and  thus  the  fairest  capability  rises  on 
a  sudden  to  fulfillment  ;  as  a  rosebud,  which  in  the  evening  we  passed 
by  unobservant,  breaks  forth  in  the  morning  at  sunrise  ])efore  our 
face  ;  and  the  living  quivering  movement  of  this  lordly  blossom, 
struggling  out  to  the  light,  seems  almost  visible  before  our  eyes. 

Nor  did  this  intellectual  culture  remain  without  moral  effects  ;  for 
on  a  pure  spirit  it  produces  a  magic  impression  to  be  conscious  of 
that  heartfelt  thankfulness,  natural  towards  any  one  to  whom  it 
stands  indebted  for  decisive  instruction.  In  this  case  it  was  the  first 
glad  emotion  which  had  risen  in  Hilaria's  soul  for  many  a  week.  To 
see  this  lordly  world  lying  round  her  day  after  day,  and  now  at  once 
to  feel  the  instantly  acquired,  more  perfect  gift  of  representing  it  ! 
What  delight,  in  figures  and  tints,  to  be  approaching  nearer  the  un- 
speakable !  She  felt  herself  surprised  as  with  a  new  youth  ;  and 
could  not  refuse  a  peculiar  kindliness  to  the  man  who  had  procured  for 
her  such  happiness. 

Thus  did  the  two  sit  together  ;  you  could  scarcely  have  determined 
whether  he  was  readier  in  communicating  secret  advantages  in  art,  or 
she  in  seizing  them  and  turning  them  to  practice.  The  happiest 
rival"''',  such  as  too  seldom  rises  between  scholar  and  master,  here 
took'placp.  Many  a  time  you  might  observe  the  friend  preparing 
with  some  decisive  stroke  to  influence  her  drawing  ;  which  she,  on 
the  other  hand,  would  gently  decline,  hastening  to  do  the  wished,  the 
necessary,  of  her  own  accord,  and  always  to  her  master's  astonish- 
ment. 

The  fair  widow,  in  the  meanwhile,  walked  along  the  terraces  with 
\Vilhelm,  under  cypresses  and  pines,  now  under  vine,  now^  under 
orange  groves  ;  and  at  last  could  not  but  fulfill   the  faintly  indicated 


528  MEISTEB'8  TRAVELS. 

wish  of  her  new  friend,  and  disclose  to  him  the  strange  entangle- 
ment by  which  the  two  fair  pilgrims,  cut  off  from  their  former  ties, 
and  straitly  united  to  one  another,  had  been  sent  forth  to  wander  over 
the  world. 

Wilhelm,  who  wanted  not  the  gift  of  accurately  noting  what  he 
saw,  took  down  her  narrative  some  time  afterwards  in  writing  :  this, 
as  he  compiled  it  and  transmitted  it  by  Hersilia  to  Natalia,  we  pur- 
pose by  and  by  communicating  to  our  readers. 

The  last  evening  was  now  come  ;  and  a  rising,  most  clear,  full  moon 
concealed  the  transition  from  day  to  night.  The  party  had  assembled 
and  seated  themselves  on  one  of  the  highest  terraces,  to  see  distinct 
and  unimpeded,  and  glittering  in  the  sheen  of  east  and  west,  the 
peaceful  lake,  liidden  partly  in  its  length,  but  visible  over  all  its 
breadth. 

Whatever  in  such  circumstances  might  be  talked  of,  it  was  natural 
once  more  to  repeat  the  hundred  times  repeated  ;  to  mention  the 
beauties  of  the  sky,  of  this  water,  of  this  land,  under  the  influences 
of  a  strong  sun  and  milder  moon,  nay,  exclusively  and  lyrically  to 
recognize  and  describe  them. 

But  what  none  of  them  uttered,  what  each  durst  scarcely  avow  to 
himself,  was  the  deep  mournful  feeling  which,  stronger  or  weaker, 
but  with  equal  truth  and  tenderness,  was  beating  in  every  bosom. 
The  presentiment  of  parting  diffused  itself  over  present  union  ;  a 
gradual  stagnation  was  becoming  almost  painful. 

Then  at  last  the  singer  roused  himself,  summoned  up  his  resolu- 
tion ;  with  strong  tones,  preluding  on  his  instrument  ;  heedless  of  the 
former  well-meant  reserve.  Migi'ion's  figure,  with  the  first  soft  song 
of  the  gentle  child,  were  hovering  before  him.  Passionately  hurried 
over  the  limits  ;  with  longing  touch  awakening  the  sweetly-sounding 
strings,  he  began  to  raise  : 

Know'st  thon  tlio  land  where  lemon-trees  do  bloom, 
Aud  oranges  like  gold     —     —     —     —     —     — 

Hilaria  rose  in  deepest  agitation,  and  hurried  away,  veiling  her  face  ; 
our  fair  widow,  with  a  motion  of  refusal,  waved  her  hand  towards 
the  singer,  while  she  caught  Wilhelm's  arm  with  the  other.  The  per- 
plexed and  luilf-unconscious  youth  followed  Hilaria  ;  Wilhelm,  by 
his  more  considerate  guide,  was  led  after  them.  And  now  when  they 
stood  all  four  under  the  high  moonshine,  the  general  emotion  g^s  no 
longer  to  be  concealed.  The  women  threw  themselves  intb  each 
other's  arms  ;  the  men  embraced  each  other  ;  and  Luna  was  witness 
of  the  noblest,  chastest  tears.  Some  recollection  slowly  returned  ; 
they  forced  themselves  asunder,  silent,  under  strange  feelings  and 
wishes,  from  which  hope  was  already  cut  off.  And  now  our  artist, 
whom  his  friend  dragged  with  him,  felt  himself  here  under  the  void 
heaven,  in  the  solemn  lovely  hour  of  night,  initiated  in  the  first  stage 
of  renunciation,  which  those  friends  had  already  passed  through, 


CHAPTER  XIV.  529 

though  they  now  saw  themselves  again  in  danger  of  being  sharply- 
tried. 

Not  till  late  had  the  young  men  gone  to  rest  ;  awakening  in  the 
early  morning,  they  took  heart  ;  thought  themselves  now  strong 
enough  for  a  farewell  to  this  paradise  ;  devised  many  plans  for  still, 
without  violation  of  duty,  at  least  lingering  in  the  pleasant  neighbor- 
hood. 

While  purposing  to  introduce  their  projects  to  this  effect,  they 
were  cut  short  by  intelligence  that,  with  the  earliest  break  of  day, 
the  ladies  had  departed.  A  letter  from  the  hand  of  our  Queen  of 
Hearts  gave  them  more  precise  information.  You  might  have  doubted 
whether  sense  rather  than  goodness,  love  rather  than  friendship, 
acknowledgment  of  merit  rather  than  soft  bashful  favor,  was  ex- 
pressed in  it.  But  alas,  in  the  conclusion  stood  the  hard  request, 
that  our  two  wanderers  were  neither  to  follow  their  heroines,  nor 
anywhere  to  seelv  them  ;  nay,  if  they  chanced  to  see  each  other,  they 
were  faithfully  to  avoid  meeting. 

And  now  the  paradise,  as  if  by  the  touch  of  an  enchanter's  rod, 
was  changed  for  our  friends  into  an  utter  desert  ;  and  certainly  they 
would  have  smiled  at  themselves,  had  they  perceived  at  this  moment 
how  unjust  and  unthankful  they  were  on  a  sudden  become  to  so  fair 
and  remarkable  a  scene.  No  self-seeking  hypochondriac  could  so 
sharply  and  spitefully  have  rated  and  censured  the  decay  of  the 
buildings,  the  neglected  condition  of  the  walls,  the  weathered  aspect 
of  the  towers,  the  grassy  obstruction  of  the  walks,  the  perishing  of 
the  trees,  the  mossiness  and  moldering  of  the  artificial  grottoes,  and 
whatever  else  of  that  sort  was  to  be  observed,  as  our  two  travelers  now 
did.  By  degrees,  however,  they  settled  themselves  as  circumstances 
would  admit  ;  the  artist  carefully  packed  up  his  work  ;  they  both 
set  sail  ;  Wilhelm  accompanying  him  to  the  upper  quarter  of  the 
lake,  where,  b\'  previous  agreement,  the  former  set  forth  on  his  way 
to  Natalia,  to  introduce  her  by  his  fair  landscape  papers,  into  scenes 
which  perhaps  she  might  not  soon  have  an  opportunity  of  viewing 
with  her  eyes.  He  was  at  the  same  time  commissioned  to  inform  her 
confessionally  of  the  late  incident,  which  had  reduced  him  to  a  state 
such  that  he  might  be  received  with  hearty  kindness  by  the  confed- 
erates in  the  vow  of  renunciation,  and  with  soft  friendly  treatment, 
in  the  midst  of  them,  be  comforted,  if  he  could  not  be  healed. 


530  MEISTEB'S  THAVELS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

In  this  division  of  our  work,  the  exculpatory  word  from  the  editor 
might  have  been  more  requisite  than  even  in  the  foregoing  chapter  ; 
for  tliere,  though  we  had  not  the  paintings  of  the  master  and  his  fair 
scholar,  on  which  all  depended,  to  exhibit  before  our  readers  ;  and 
could  neither  make  the  perfection  of  the  finished  artist,  nor  the  com- 
mencing stintedness  nor  rapid  development  of  the  art-loving  beauty 
visible  to  their  eyes  :  yet  still  the  description  might  not  be  altogether 
inefficient,  and  many  genial  and  thought-exalting  matters  remained 
to  be  imparted.  But  here,  where  the  business  in  hand  is  a  great  ob- 
ject, which  one  could  have  wished  to  see  treated  in  the  most  precise 
manner,  there  is,  unhappily,  too  little  noted  down  ;  and  we  cannot 
hope  that  a  complete  view  will  be  attained  from  our  communications. 

Again,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  in  the  novel,  as  in  universal  his- 
tory, we  have  to  struggle  with  uncertain  computations  of  time  ;  and 
cannot  always  decisively  fix  what  has  happened  sooner,  and  what 
later.     We  shall  hold,  therefore,  by  the  surest  points. 

That  a  year  must  have  passed  since  Wilhelm  left  the  pedagogic 
province,  is  rendered  certain,  by  the  circumstance,  that  we  now  meet 
him  at  the  festival  to  which  he  had  been  invited  ;  but  as  our  wander- 
ing Renunciants  sometimes  unexpectedly  dive  down  and  vanish  from 
our  sight,  and  then  again  emerge  into  view  at  a  place  where  they 
were  not  looked  for,  it  cannot  be  determined  with  certainty  what 
track  they  have  followed  in  the  interim. 

Now,  however,  the  traveler  advances  from  the  side  of  the  plain 
country  into  the  pedagogic  province  :  he  comes  over  fields  and  pas- 
turages ;  skirts,  on  the  dry  lea,  many  a  little  freshet  ;  sees  bushy 
rather  than  woody  hills  ;  a  free  prospect  on  all  sides,  over  a  surface 
but  little  undulated.  On  such  tracks,  he  did  not  long  doubt  that  he 
was  in  the  horse-producing  region  ;  and  accordingly  he  failed  not 
here  and  there  to  observe  greater  or  smaller  herds  of  mares  and  foals. 
But  all  at  once  the  horizon  darkens  with  a  fierce  cloud  of  dust,  which 
rapidly  swelling  nearer  and  nearer,  covers  all  the  breadth  of  the 
space  ;  yet  at  last,  rent  asunder  by  a  sharp  side  wind,  is  forced  to  dis- 
close its  interior  tumult. 

At  full  gallop  rushes  forward  a  vast  multitude  of  these  noble  ani- 
mals, guided  and  held  together  by  mounted  keepers.  The  monstrous 
hurly-burly  whirls  past  the  wanderer  ;  a  fair  boy  among  the  keepers 
looks  at  him  with  surprise  ;  pulls  in,  leaps  down  and  embraces  his 
father. 

Now  commences  a  questioning  and  answering  ;  the  boy  relates 
that  an  agricultural  life  had  not  agreed  with  him  ;  the  harvest-home 


CHAPTER  XV.  531 

he  had  indeed  found  delightful,  but  the  subsequent  arrangements, 
the  plowing  and  digging,  by  no  means  so.  This  the  superiors  re- 
mark, and  observe  at  the  same  time  that  he  likes  to  employ  himself 
with  animals  :  they  direct  him  to  the  useful  and  necessary  domestic 
breeds  ;  try  him  as  a  sequestered  herdsman  and  keeper,  and  at  last 
promote  him  to  the  more  lively  equestrian  occupation  ;  where  accord- 
ingly he  now,  himself  a  young  foal,  has  to  watch  over  foals,  and  to 
forward  their  good  nourishment  and  training,  under  the  oversight  of 
skillful  comrades. 

Father  and  son,  following  the  herd,  by  various  lone-lying  spacious 
farmyards,  reached  the  town  or  hamlet,  near  which  the  great  annual 
market  was  held.  Here  rages  an  incredible  confusion,  in  which  it  is 
hard  to  determine  whether  merchants  or  wares  raise  more  dust. 
From  all  countries  purchasers  assemble  here  to  procure  animals  of 
noble  blood  and  careful  training  ;  all  the  languages  of  the  earth,  you 
would  fancy,  meet  your  ear.  Amid  all  this  hubbub,  too,  rises  the  lively 
sound  of  powerful  wind  instruments  ;  everything  bespeaks  motion, 
vigor  and  life. 

The  wanderer  meets  his  overseer  of  last  year,  who  presents  him  to 
the  others  :  he  is  even  introduced  to  one  of  the  Three  ;  and  by  him, 
though  only  in  passing,  paternally  and  expressively  saluted. 

Wilhelm,  here  again  observing  an  example  of  exclusive  culture  and 
life -leading,  expresses  a  desire  to  know  in  what  else  the  pupils  are 
practiced,  by  way  of  counterpoise  ;  that  so  in  this  wild,  and,  to  a  cer- 
tain degree,  savage  occupation  of  feeding  animals,  the  youth  may  not 
himself  roughen  into  an  animal.  And,  in  answer,  he  is  gratified  to 
learn,  that  precisely  with  this  violent  and  rugged-looking  occupation 
the  softest  in  the  world  is  united, — the  learning  and  practicing  of 
languages. 

"  To  this,"  it  was  said,  "  we  have  been  induced  by  the  circumstance,  ; 
that  there  are  youths  from  all  quarters  of  the  v/orld  assembled  here  : 
now  to  prevent  them  from  uniting,  as  usually  happens  when  abroad, 
into  national  knots,  and  forming  exclusive  parties,  we  endeavor  by  a 
fri^e  communication  of  speech  to  approximate  them. 

"Indeed,  a  general  acquaintance  with  languages  is  here  in  some 
degree  rendered  necessary  ;  since,  in  our  yearly  market  festivals, 
every  foreigner  wishes  to  converse  in  his  own  tones  and  idiom  ;  and, 
in  the  course  of  cheapening  and  purchasing,  to  proceed  with  all  pos- 
sible convenience.  That  no  Babylonish  confusion  of  tongues,  how- 
ever, no  corruption  of  speech,  may  arise  from  this  practice;  we  employ 
a  different  language  i'  nth  by  month,  throughout  the  year;  accord- 
ing to  the  maxim,  tl;  i  in  learning  anything,  its  first  principles  alone 
should  be  taught  by  constraint.  J 

"We  look  upon  our  scholars,"  said  the  overseer,  "as  so  many 
swimmers,  who,  in  the  element  which  threatened  to  swallow  them, 
feel  with  astonishment  that  they  are  lighter,  that  it  bears  and  carries 
them  forward  :  and  so  it  is  with  everything  that  man  undertakes.  / 


532  MEI8TER' 8  TRAVELS. 

"  However,  if  any  one  of  our  young  men  sliow  a  special  inclination 
for  this  or  the  other  language,  we  neglect  not,  in  the  midst  of  this 
tumultuous-looking  life,  which  nevertheless  offers  very  many  quiet, 
idly  solitary,  nay,  tedious  hours,  to  provide  for  his  true  and  substan- 
tial instruction.  Our  riding  grammarians,  among  whom  there  are 
even  some  pedagogues,  you  would  be  surprised  to  discover  among 
these  bearded  and  beardless  Centaurs.  Your  Felix  has  turned  him- 
self to  Italian  ;  and  in  the  monotonous  solitude  of  his  herdsman 
life,  you  shall  hear  him  send  forth  many  a  dainty  song  with  proper 
feeling  and  taste./  Practical  activity  and  expertness  are  far  more 
I  compatible  with  sufficient  intellectual  culture  than  is  generally  sup- 
V  posed."  .  -- ' 

Each  of  these  districts  was  celebrating  its  peculiar  festival  ;  so  the 
guest  was  now  conducted  to  the  instrumental  music  department. 
This  tract,  skirted  by  the  level  country,  began  from  its  very  border 
to  exhibit  kind  and  beautifully-changing  valleys,  little  trim  woods  ; 
soft  brooks,  by  the  side  of  which,  among  the  sward,  here  and  there, 
a  mossy  crag  modestly  stood  fortli.  Scattered,  bush-encircled  dwell- 
ings you  might  see  on  the  hillsides  ;  in  soft  hollows,  the  houses 
clustered  nearer  together.  Those  gracefully  separated  cottages  lay 
so  far  apart,  that  neither  tones  nor  mistones  could  be  heard  from  one 
to  tlie  other. 

They  now  apprc  ached  a  wide  space,  begirt  with  buildings  and 
shady  trees,  where  crowded,  man  on  man,  all  seemed  on  the  stretch 
of  expectation  and  attention.  Just  as  the  stranger  entered,  there  was 
sent  forth  from  all  the  instruments  a  grand  symphony,  the  full  rich 
power  and  tenderness  of  which  he  could  not  bat  admire.  Opposite 
the  spacious  main  orchestra  was  a  smaller  one,  which  failed  not  to 
attract  his  notice  :  here  stood  various  younger  and  elder  scholars  ; 
each  held  his  in.strument  in  readiness  without  playing ;  these  were 
they  who  as  yet  could  not,  or  durst  not,  join  in  with  the  whole.  It 
was  interesting  to  observe  how  they  stood  as  it  Avere  on  the  start  ; i 
and  our  friend  was  informed  that  such  a  festival  seldom  passed  over, 
'  without  some  one  or  other  of  them  suddenly  developing  his  talent. 

As  among  the  instrumental  music,  singing  was  now  introduced,  uo 
doubt  could  remain  that  this  also  was  favored.  To  the  question, 
what  other  sort  of  culture  was  liere  blended  in  kind  union  with  the 
chief  employment,  our  wanderer  learned  in  reply,  that  it  was  poetry, 
and  of  the  lyrical  kind.  In  this  matter,  it  appeared,  their  main  con- 
cern was,  that  both  arts  should  be  developed  each  for  itself,  and  from 
itself,  but  then  also  in  contrast  and  combination  with  each  other.  The 
scholars  were  first  instructed  in  each  according  to  its  own  limitations  ; 
then  taught  how  the  two  reciprocally  limit,  and  again  reciprocally 
_fxee  each  other. 

1      To  poetical   rhythm  the  musical  artist  opposes  measure  of  tone 

•  and  movement  of  tone.     But  here  the  mastery  of  music  over  poesy 

soon  shows  itself  ;  for  if  the  latter,  as  is  fit  and  necessary,  keep  her 


CHAPTER  XV.  633 

quantities  never  so  steadily  in  view,  still  for  the  musician  few  sylla- 
bles are  decidedly  short  or  long  ;  at  his  pleasure  he  can  overset  the 
most  couscieniious  procedure  of  the  rhythnier,  nay,  change  prose 
itself  into  song  ;  froua  which,  in  truth,  the  riclicst  possibilities  pre- 
sent themselves  ;  and  the  poet  would  soon  feel  liiniself  annihilated, 
if  he  could  not,  on  his  own  side,  by  lyrical  tenderness  and  boldness, 
inspire  the  musician  with  reverence  ;  and,  now  in  the  softest 
sequence,  now  by  the  most  abrupt  transitions,  awaken  new  feelings 
in  the  mind.^ 

The  singers  to  be  met  with  here  are  mostly  poets  themselves. 
Dancing  also  is  taught  in  its  fundamental  principles  ;  that  so  all  these 
accomplishments  may  regularly  spread  themselves  into  every  district. 

The  guest,  on  being  led  across  the  next  boundary,  at  once  per- 
ceived an  altogether  different  mode  of  building.  The  houses  were 
no  longer  scattered  into  separation,  no  longer  in  the  shape  of  cot- 
tages :  they  stood  regularly  united,  beautiful  in  their  exterior,  spa- 
cious, convenient  and  elegant  within  ;  you  here  saw  an  unconfined, 
well-built,  stately  town,  corresponding  to  the  scene  it  stood  in.  Here 
the  plastic  arts,  and  the  trades  akin  to  them,  have  their  home  ;  and 
a  peculiar  silence  reigns  over  these  spaces. 

The  plastic  artist,  it  is  true,  must  still  figure  himself  as  standing 
in  relation  to  all  that  lives  and  moves  among  men  ;  but  his  occupa- 
tion is  solitary  ;  and  yet,  by  the  strangest  contradiction,  there  is  per- 
haps no  other  that  so  decidedly  requires  a  living  accompaniment  and 
society.  Now  here,  in  that  circle,  is  each  in  silence  forming  shapes 
tliat  are  forever  to  engage  the  eyes  of  men  ;  a  holiday  stillness  reigns 
over  the  whole  scene  ;  and  did  you  not  here  and  there  catch  the 
picking  of  stone-hewers,  and  the  measured  stroke  of  carpenters,  who 
are  now  busily  employed  in  finishing  a  lordly  edifice,  the  air  were 
unmoved  by  any  sound. 

Our  wanderer  was  struck,  moreover,  by  the  earnestness,  the  sin- 
gular rigor  by  which  beginners,  as  well  as  more  advanced  pupils, 
were  treated  ;  it  seemed  as  if  no  one  by  his  own  power  and  judgment  ac- 
complished anything,  but  as  if  a  secret  spirit,  striving  towards  one  sin- 
gle great  aim,  pervaded  and  vivified  them  all.  Nowhere  did  you  observe 
a  scheme  or  sketch  ;  every  stroke  was  drawn  with  forethought.  As 
the  wanderer  inquired  of  his  guide  the  reason  of  this  peculiar  proce- 
dure, he  was  told  :  that  imagination  was  in  itself  a  vague,  unstable 
power,  which  the  whole  merit  of  the  plastic  artist  consisted  in  more 
and  more  determining,  fixing,  nay,  at  last  exalting  to  visible  presence. 

The  necessity  for  sure  principles  in  other  ai'ts  was  mentioned. 
"Would  the  musician,"  it  was  said,  "permit  his  scholar  to  dash 
wildly  over  the  strings,  nay,  to  invent  bars  and  intervals  for  himself 
at  his  own  good  pleasure?  Here  it  is  palpable  that i nothing  can  be 
left  to  the  caprice  of  the  learner  ;  the  element  he  is  to  work  in  is  irre- 
vocably given  ;  the  implement  he  is  to  wield  is  put  into  his  hands  ; 
nay,  the  very  way  and  manner  of  his  iising  it,  I  mean  the  changing 


534  MEI8TER' a  TRAVELS. 

of  the  fingers,  he  finds  prescribed  to  him  ;  so  ordered  that  the  one 
part  of  his  hand  shall  give  place  to  the  other,  and  each  prepare  the 
proper  path  for  its  follower  :  by  such  determined  co-operation  only 
can  the  impossible  at  hist  become  possible. 

"  But  what  chiefly  vindicates  the  practice  of  strict  requisitions,  of 
decided  laws,  is  that  genius,  that  native  talent,  is  precisely  the  readi- 
est to  seize  them,  and  yield  them  willing  obedience.  It  is  only  the 
half-gifted  that  would  wish  to  put  his  own  contracted  singularity  in 
the  place  of  the  unconditional  whole,  and  justify  his  false  attempts 
under  cover  of  an  uncoustrainable  originality  and  independence.  To 
this  we  grant  no  currency  :  we  guard  our  scholars  from  all  such  mis- 
conceptions, whereby  a  large  portion  of  life,  nay,  often  the  whole  of 
life,  is  apt  to  be  perplexed  and  disjointed. 

"  With  genius  we  love  most  to  be  concerned  ;  for  this  is  animated 
just  by  that  good  spirit  of  quickly  recognizing  what  is  profitable  for 
it.  Genius  understands  that  art  is  called  art  because  it  is  not  nature. 
Genius  bends  itself  to  respect  even  towards  what  may  be  named  con- 
ventional ;  for  what  is  this  but  agreeing,  as  the  most  distinguished 
men  have  agreed,  to  regard  the  unalterable,  the  indispensable  as  the 
best  ?     And  does  not  such  submission  always  turn  to  good  account  ?  | 

"  Here  too,  as  in  all  our  departments,  to  the  great  assistance  of  tlie 
teachers,  our  three  reverences  and  their  signs,  with  some  changes 
suitable  to  the  nature  of  the  main  employment,  have  been  introduced 
and  inculcated." 

The  wanderer,  in  his  farther  survey,  was  surprised  to  observe  that 
the  town  seemed  still  extending  ;  street  unfolding  itself  from  street, 
and  so  offering  the  most  varied  prospects.  The  exterior  of  the  edifices 
corresponded  to  their  destination  :  they  were  dignified  and  stately, 
not  so  much  magnificent  as  beautiful.  To  the  nobler  and  more  earnest 
buildings  in  the  center  of  the  town,  the  more  cheerful  were  harmoni- 
ously appended  ;  till  farther  out,  gay  decorated  suburbs,  in  graceful 
style,  stretched  forth  into  the  country,  and  at  last  separated  into  gar- 
den-houses. 

The  stranger  could  not  fail  to  remark,  that  the  dwellings  of  the 
musicians  in  the  preceding  district  were  by  no  means  to  be  compared, 
in  beauty  or  size,  with  the  present,  which  painters,  sculptors  and 
architects  inhabited.  He  was  told  that  this  arose  from  the  nature 
of  the  thing.  The  musician,  ever  shrouded  in  himself,  must  culti- 
vate the  inmost  being,  that  so  he  may  turn  it  outwards.  The  sense 
of  the  eye  he  may  not  flatter.  The  eye  easily  corrupts  the  judgment 
of  the  ear,  and  allures  the  spirit  from  the  inward  to  the  outward.  In- 
versely, again,  the  plastic  artist  has  to  live  in  the  external  world  ;  and 
to  manifest  his  inward  being,  as  it  were,  unconsciously,  in  and  upon 
what  is  outward.  Plastic  artists  should  dwell  like  kings  and  gods  : 
how  else  are  they  to  build  and  decorate  for  kings  and  gods?  They 
must  at  last  so  raise  themselves  above  the  common,  that  the  whple 
mass  of  a  people  may  feel  itself  ennobled  in  and  by  their  works. 


CHAPTER  XV.  535 

Our  friend  then  begged  an  explanation  of  another  paradox  :  Why 
at  this  time,  so  festive,  so  enlivening,  so  tumultuously  excited,  in  the 
other  regions,  the  greatest  stillness  prevailed  here,  and  all  labors 
were  continued  ? 

"  A  plastic  artist,"  it  was  answered,  "  needs  no  festival.  When  he 
has  accomplished  something  excellent,  it  stands,  as  it  has  long  done 
before  his  own  eye,  now  at  last  before  the  eye  of  the  world  :  in  his 
task  he  needed  no  repetition,  no  new  effort,  no  fresh  success  ;  whereas 
the  musician  constantly  afflicts  himself  with  all  this  ;  and  to  him, 
therefore,  the  most  splendid  festival,  in  the  most  numerous  aMem- 
blage,  should  not  be  refused." 

"  Yet  at  such  a  season,"  replied  Wilhelm,  "  something  like  an  ex- 
hibition might  be  desirable  ;  in  which  it  would  be  pleasant  to  inspect 
and  judge  the  triennial  progress  of  your  best  pupils." 

"  In  other  places,"  it  was  answered,  "  an  exhibition  may  be  neces- 
sary ;  with  us  it  is  not.  Our  whole  being  and  nature  is  exhibition. 
Look  round  you  at  these  buildings  of  every  sort  ;  all  erected  by  our 
pupils  ;  and  this  not  without  plans  a  hundred  times  talked  of  and 
meditated  ;  for  the  builder  must  not  grope  and  experiment  ;  what  is 
to  continue  standing,  must  stand  rightly,  and  satisfy,  if  not  forever, 
yet  at  least  for  a  long  space  of  time.  If  we  cannot  help  committing 
errors,  we  must  build  none. 

"  With  sculptors  we  proceed  more  laxly,  most  so  of  all  with  paint- 
ers ;  to  both  we  give  liberty  to  try  this  and  that,  each  in  his  own  way. 
It  stands  in  their  power  to  select  in  the  interior  or  exterior  compart- 
ments of  edifices  in  public  places,  some  space  which  lliey  may  incline 
to  decorate.  They  give  forth  their  ideas,  and  if  these  are  in  some 
degree  to  be  approved  of,  the  completion  of  them  is  permitted,  and 
this  in  two  ways  ;  either  witii  liberty,  sooner  or  later,  to  remove  the 
work,  should  it  come  to  displease  the  artist  ;  or,  with  the  condition 
that  what  is  once  set  up  shall  remain  unalterable  in  its  place.  Most 
part  choose  the  first  of  these  offers,  retaining  in  their  own  hands  this 
power  of  removal  ;  and  in  the  performance,  they  constantly  avail 
themselves  of  the  best  advice.  The  second  case  occurs  seldomer  ; 
and  we  then  observe  that  the  artist  trusts  less  to  himself,  holds  long 
conferences  with  companions  and  critics,  and  by  this  means  produces 
works  really  estimable,  and  deserving  to  endure." 

After  all  this,  our  traveler  neglected  not  to  ask  :  What  other  species 
of  instruction  was  combined  with  the  main  one  here?  and  received 
for  answer,  that  it  was  poetry,  and  of  the  epic  sort. 

This  to  our  friend  must  have  seemed  a  little  singular,  when  he 
heard  fartlier  that  the  pupils  were  not  allowed  to  read  or  hear  any 
finished  poems  by  ancient  or  modern  poets.  "  We  merely  impart  to 
them,"  it  was  said,  "  a  series  of  myths,  traditions  and  legends,  in  the 
most  laconic  form.  And  now,  from  the  pictorial  or  poetic  execution 
of  these  subjects,  we  at  once  discover  the  peculiar  productive  gift  of 
the  genius  devoted  to  the  one  or  the  other  art.     Both  poet  and  painter 


536  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

tlius  labor  at  the  same  fountain  ;  and  each  endeavors  to  draw  off  the 
water  to  his  own  side,  to  his  own  advantage,  and  attain  his  own 
required  objects  with  it  ;  in  which  he  succeeds  much  better  than  if 
he  attempted  again  to  fashion  something  that  has  been  fashioned 
already." 

The  traveler  himself  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  how  this  was 
accomplished  ;  several  painters  were  busy  in  a  room  ;  a  gay  young 
friend  was  relating  with  great  minuteness  a  very  simple  story  ;  so 
that  he  employed  almost  as  many  words  as  the  others  did  pencil- 
strokes,  to  complete  the  same  exhibition  and  round  it  fully  ofE. 

He  was  told,  that  in  working  together  the  friends  were  wont  to 
carry  on  much  pleasant  conversation  ;  and  that  in  this  way  several 
improvisatori  had  unfolded  their  gifts,  and  succeeded  in  exciting  great 
enthusiasm  for  this  twofold  mode  of  representation. 

Our  friend  now  reverted  his  inquiries  to  the  subject  of  plastic  art. 
"  You  have  no  exhibition,"  said  he  ;  "  and  therefore  I  suppose  give 
no  prize  either?" 

"No,"  said  the  other,  "we  do  not;  but  here,  close  by,  we  can 
show  you  something  which  we  reckon  more  useful." 

They  entered  a  large  hall,  beautifully  lighted  from  above  ;  a  wide 
circle  of  busy  artists  first  attracted  the  eye  ;  and  from  the  midst  of 
these*  rose  a  colossal  group  of  figures,  elevated  in  the  center  of  the 
place.  Male  and  female  forms  of  gigantic  power,  in  violent  postures, 
reminded  one  of  that  lordly  fight  between  heroic  youths  and  Ama- 
zons, wherein  hate  and  enmity  at  last  issue  in  mutually  regretful 
alliance.  This  strikingly  intertwisted  piece  of  art  presented  an 
equally  favorable  aspect  from  every  point  of  its  circuit.  In  a  wide 
ring  round  it  were  many  artists  sitting  and  standing,  each  occupied 
in  his  own  way ;  the  painter  at  his  easel,  the  drawer  at  his  sketch-board  ; 
some  were  modeling  it  in  full,  others  in  bas-relief  ;  there  were  even 
architects  engaged  in  planning  the  pedestal,  on  which  a  similar  group, 
when  wrought  in  marble,  was  to  be  erected.  Each  individual  was 
proceeding  by  his  own  method  in  this  task  ;  painters  and  drawers  were 
bringing  out  the  group  to  a  plain  surface  ;  careful,  however,  not  to 
destroy  its  figures,  but  to  retain  as  much  of  it  as  possible.  In  the 
same  manner  were  works  in  bas-relief  going  forward.  One  man  only 
had  repeated  the  whole  group  in  a  miniature  scale  ;  and  in  certain 
movements  and  arrangements  of  limbs  he  really  seemed  to  have  sur- 
passed his  model. 

And  now  it  came  out  that  this  man  was  the  maker  of  the  model  ; 
who,  before  working  it  in  marble,  had  here  submitted  his  perform- 
ance not  to  a  critical,  but  to  a  practical  .trial  ;  and  by  accurately  ob- 
serving whatever  any  of  his  fellow-artists  in  his  special  department 
and  way  of  thought  might  notice,  retain  or  alter  in  the  group,  was 
purposing,  in  subsequent  consideration,  to  turn  all  this  to  his  own 
profit  ;  so  that,  when  at  length  the  grand  work  stood  finished  in  mar- 
ble, though  undertaken,  planned  and  executed  by  one,  it  might  seem 
to  belong  to  all. 


CHAPTER  XV.  537 

The  greatest  silence  reigned  throughout  this  apartment  also  ;  but 
the  superior  raised  his  voice,  and  cried  :  "  Is  there  any  of  you,  then, 
who  in  presence  of  this  stationary  work  can,  with  gifted  words,  so 
awaken  our  imagination,  that  all  we  here  see  concreted  shall  again 
become  fluid,  without  losing  its  character  ;  and  so  convince  us,  that 
what  our  artist  has  here  laid  hold  of,  was  indeed  the  wortliiest  V  " 

Called  forth  on  all  sides  by  name,  a  fair  youth  laid  down  his  work  ; 
and  as  he  stepped  forward,  began  a  quiet  speech,  seemingly  intended 
merely  to  describe  the  present  group  of  figures  ;  but  ere  long  he  cast 
himself  into  the  region  of  poetry,  plunged  into  the  middle  of  the 
action,  and  ruled  this  element  like  a  master  ;  by  degrees,  his  repre- 
sentation so  swelled  and  mounted  by  lordly  words  and  gestures,  that 
the  rigid  group  seemed  actually  to  move  about  its  axis,  and  the  num- 
ber of  its  figures  to  be  doubled  and  trebled.  Wilhelm  stood  enrapt- 
ured, and  at  last  exclaimed  :  "  Can  we  now  forbear  passing  over  into 
song  itself,  into  rhythmic  melody  ?  " 

"  This  I  should  wish  to  hinder,"  said  the  overseer  ;  "  for  if  our 
excellent  sculptor  will  be  candid,  he  will  confess  to  us  that  our  poet 
scarcely  pleases  him  ;  and  this  because  their  arts  lie  in  the  most  op- 
posite regions  ;  on  the  other  hand,  1  durst  bet,  that  here  and  there  a 
painter  has  not  failed  to  ap])ropriate  some  living  touches  from  the 
speech.  A  soft  kindly  song,  however,  I  could  wish  our  dear  friend  to 
hear  ;  there  is  one,  for  instance,  which  you  sing  to  an  air  so  lovely 
and  earnest  ;  it  turns  on  art  in  general,  and  I  myself  never  listen  to  it 
without  pleasure." 

After  a  pause,  in  which  they  beckoned  to  each  other,  and  settled 
their  arrangements  by  signs,  the  following  heart  and  spirit-stirring 
song  resounded  in  stately  melody  from  ail  sides  : 

While  inventing  and  effecting, 

Artist,  by  tiiyself  continue  long  : 
The  result  art  thou  expecting, 

Haste  and  see  it  in  the  throng. 
Here  in  others  look,  discover 

What  thy  own  life's  course  has  been  ; 
And  thy  deeds  of  years  past  over 

In  thy  fellow-man  be  seen. 
The  devising,  the  uniting, 

What  and  how  the  forms  shall  be  ; 
One  thing  will  the  otlier  lighten. 

And  at  last  comes  joy  to  thee  ! 
Wise  and  true  what  thou  impartest, 

Fairly  shaped,  and  softly  done  : 
Thus  of  old  the  cunning  artist 
^     Artist-like  his  glory  won. 
/  As  all  nature's  thousand  changes 

But  one  changeless  God  proclaim  ; 
So  in  art's  wide  kingdom  ranges 

One  sole  meaning  still  the  same  : 
This  is  truth,  eternal  reason, 

Which  from  beauty  takes  its  dress, 
And  serene  through  time  and  season 

Stands  for  aye  in  loveliness.  | 


538  MEISTEB'B  TRAVELS. 

While  the  orator,  the  singet, 

Pour  their  hearts  in  rhyme  and  prose; 

'Neath  the  painter's  busj'  finger 

Shall  bloom  forth  life's  cheerful  rose  | 

Girt  with  sisters  ;  in  the  middle, 

And  with  autumn's  fruitage  blent ; 

That  of  life's  mysterious  riddle 
Some  short  glimpses  may  be  hent. 

Thousandfold,  and  graceful,  show  thou         * 

Form  from  forms  evolving  fair  ; 
And  of  man's  bright  image  know  thou 

That  a  God  once  tarried  there  : 
And  whate'er  your  tasks  or  prizes, 

Stand  as  brethren  one  and  all. 
While,  like  song,  sweet  incense  rises 

From  the  attar  at  your  call. 

All  this  Wilhelm  could  not  but  let  pass,  though  it  must  have  seemed 
paradoxical  enough  ;  and  had  lie  not  seen  it  with  his  eyes,  might  even 
have  appeared  impossible.  But  now,  when  it  was  explained  and 
pointed  out  to  him,  openly  and  freely,  and  in  fair  sequence,  he  scarcely 
needed  to  put  any  farther  question  on  the  subject.  However,  he  at 
last  addressed  his  conductor  as  follows  :  "  I  see  here  a  most  prudent 
provision  made  for  much  that  is  desirable  in  life  ;  but  tell  me  farther, 
which  of  your  regions  exhibits  a  similar  attention  to  dramatic  poetry, 
and  where  could  I  instruct  myself  in  that  matter  ?  I  have  looked 
round  over  all  your  edifices,  and  observed  none  that  seemed  destined 
for  such  an  object." 

"  In  reply  to  this  question,  we  must  not  hide  from  you  that,  in  our 
whole  province,  there  is  no  such  edifice  to  be  seen.  The  drama  pre- 
supposes the  existence  of  an  idle  multitude,  perhaps  even  of  a  popu- 
lace ;  and  no  such  class  finds  harbor  with  us  ;  for  birds  of  that  feather, 
when  they  do  not  in  spleen  forsake  us  of  their  own  accord,  we  soon 
take  care  to  conduct  over  the  marches.  Doubt  not,  however,  that  in 
our  institution,  so  universal  in  its  character,  this  point  was  carefully 
meditated  ;  but  no  region  could  be  found  for  the  purpose,  everywhere 
some  important  scruple  came  in  the  way.  Indeed,  who  among  our 
pupils  could  readily  determine,  with  pretended  mirth,  or  hypocriti- 
cal sorrow,  to  excite  in  the  rest  a  feeling  untrue  in  itself,  and  alien  to 
the  moment,  for  the  sake  of  calling  forth  an  always  dubious  satisfac- 
tion? Such  juggleries  we  reckoned  in  all  cases  dangerous,  and  could 
not  reconcile  with  our  earnest  objects." 

"  It  is  said,  however,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "that  this  far-stretching 
art  promotes  all  the  rest,  of  whatever  sort. " 

"  Nowise,"  answered  the  other  ;  "it  employs  the  rest,  but  spoils 
them.  I  do  not  blame  a  player  for  uniting  himself  with  a  painter  ; 
but  the  painter,  in  such  society,  is  lost.  Without  any  conscience,  the 
player  will  lay  hold  of  whatever  art  or  life  presents  him,  and  use  it 
for  its  fugitive  objects,  indeed  with  no  small  profit ;  the  painter, 
again,  who  could  wish  in  return  to  extract  advantage  from  the  thea- 
ter, will  constantly  find  himself  a  loser  by  it  ;  and  so  also  in  the  like 


CHAPTER  XV.  539 

case  will  the  musician.  The  combined  arts  appear  to  me  like  a  family 
of  sisters,  of  whom  the  greater  part  were  inclined  to  good  economy, 
but  one  was  light-headed,  and  desirous  to  appropriate  and  squander 
the  whole  goods  and  chattels  of  the  household.  The  theater  is  this 
wasteful  sister ;  it  has  an  ambiguous  origin,  which,  in  no  case,' 
whether  as  art  or  trade  or  amusement,  it  can  wliolly  conceal."  ^ 

Wilhelra  cast  his  eyes  on  the  ground  with  a  deep  sigh  ;  for  all  that 
he  had  enjoyed  or  suffered  on  the  stage  rose  at  once  before  his  mind  ; 
and  he  blessed  the  good  men  who  were  wise  enough  to  spare  their 
pupils  such  pain,  and,  out  of  principle  and  conviction,  to  banish  such 
errors  from  their  sphere. 

His  attendant,  however,  did  not  leave  him  long  in  these  medita- 
tions, but  continued  :  "  As  it  is  our  highest  and  holiest  principle,  that 
no  talent,  no  capacity  be  misdirected,  we  cannot  hide  from  ourselves, 
that  among  so  large  a  number,  here  and  there  a  mimical  gift  will  some- 
times decidedly  come  to  light  ;  exhibiting  itself  in  an  irresistible  desire 
to  ape  the  characters,  forms,  movements,  speech  of  others.  This  we 
certainly  do  not  encourage  ;  but  we  observe  our  pupil  strictly,  and  if 
he  continue  faithful  to  his  nature,  then  we  have  already  established 
an  intercourse  with  the  great  theaters  of  all  nations,  and  so  thither  we 
send  any  youth  of  tried  capability,  that,  as  the  duck  on  the  pond,  so 
he  on  the  boards,  may  be  forthwith  conducted,  full  speed,  to  the  future 
quack-quacking  and"  gibble-gabbling  of  his  life." 

Wilhelm  heard  this  with  patience,  but  only  with  half-conviction, 
perhaps  with  some  spleen  ;  for  so  strangely  is  man  tempered,  that  he 
may  be  persuaded  of  the  worthlessness  of  any  darling  object,  may 
turn  away  from  it,  nay,  even  execrate  it  ;  but  yet  will  not  see  it  treated 
in  this  way  by  others  ;  and  perhaps  the  spirit  of  contradiction  which 
dwells  in  all  men,  never  rouses  itself  more  vehemently  and  stoutly 
than  in  such  cases. 

And  the  editor  of  these  sheets  may  himself  confess,  that  he  lets 
not  this  strange  passage  through  his  hands  without  some  touch 
of  anger.  Has  not  he  too,  in  many  senses,  expended  more  life  and 
faculty  than  was  right  on  the  theater?  And  would  these  men  con- 
vince him  that  this  has  been  an  unpardonable  error,  a  fruitless 
toil? 

But  we  have  no  time  for  appending,  in  splenetic  mood,  such  re- 
membrances and  after-feelings  to  the  narrative  ;  for  our  friend  now 
finds  himself  agreeably  surprised,  as  one  of  the  Three,  and  this  a  par- 
ticularly prepossessing  one,  again  comes  before  his  eyes.  Kind,  open 
meekness,  announcing  the  purest  peace  of  soul,  came  in  its  refresh- 
ing effluences  along  with  him.  Trustfully  the  wanderer  could  ap- 
proach, and  feel  his  trust  returned. 

Here  he  now  learned  that  the  chief  was  at  present  in  the  sanctuary, 
instructing,  teaching,  blessing  ;  while  the  Three  had  separated  to  visit 
all  the  regions,  and  everywhere,  after  most  thorough  information  ob- 
tained, and  conferences  with  the  subordinate  overseers,  to  forward 


540  MEI8TER' 8  TRAVELS. 

what  was  in  progress,  to  found  what  v/as  newly  planned,  and  thereby 
faithfully  discharge  their  high  duty. 

This  same  excellent  person  now  gave  him  a  more  comprehensive 
view  of  their  internal  situation  and  external  connections  ;  explained 
to  him  the  mutual  influences  of  one  region  on  another  :  and  also  by 
what  steps,  after  a  longer  or  a  shorter  date,  a  pupil  could  be  trans- 
ferred from  the  one  to  the  other.  All  this  harmonized  completely 
with  what  he  already  knew.  At  the  same  time,  he  was  much  grati- 
fied by  the  description  given  of  his  son  ;  and  their  farther  plan  of 
education,  met  with  his  entire  approval. 

He  was  now,  by  the  assistants  and  overseer,  invited  to  a  miners' 
festival,  which  was  forthwith  to  be  celebrated.  The  ascent  of  the 
mountains  was  difficult  ;  and  Wilhelm  fancied  he  observed  that  his 
guide  walked  even  slower  towards  evening,  as  if  the  darkness  had 
not  been  likely  to  obstruct  their  path  still  more.  But  when  deep 
night  came  round  them,  this  enigma  was  solved  :  our  wanderer  ob- 
served little  flames  come  glimmering  and  wavering  forth  from  many 
dells  and  chasms  ;  gradually  stretch  themselves  into  lines,  and  roll 
over  the  summits  of  the  mountains.  Much  kindlier  than  when  a 
volcano  opens,  and  its  l)elching  roar  threatens  whole  countries  Avith 
destruction,  did  this  fair  light  appear  ;  and  yet,  by  degrees,  it  glowed 
with  new  brightness  ;  grew  stronger,  broader,  more  continuous  ; 
glittered  like  a  stream  of  stars,  soft  and  lovely  indeed,  yet  spreading 
boldly  over  all  the  scene. 

After  the  attendant  had  a  little  while  enjoyed  the  surprise  of  his 
guest,  for  they  could  clearly  enough  observe  each  other,  their  faces 
and  forms  as  well  as  their  path  being  illuminated  by  the  light  from 
the  distance, — he  began:  "You  see  here,  in  truth,  a  curious  spec- 
tacle :  these  lights  which,  day  and  night,  the  whole  year  over; gleam 
and  work  under  ground,  forwarding  the  acquisition  of  concealed  and 
scarcely  attainable  treasures  ;  these  now  mount  and  well  forth  from 
their  abysses,  and  gladden  the  upper  night.  Scarcely  could  one  any- 
where enjoy  so  brave  a  review  as  here,  where  this  most  useful  occu- 
pation, which  in  its  subterranean  concealment  is  dispersed  and  hidden 
from  the  eye,  rises  before  us  in  its  full  completeness,  and  bespeaks  a 
great  secret  combination." 

Amid  such  speeches  and  thoughts,  they  had  reached  the  spot  where 
these  fire-brooks  poured  themselves  into  a  sea  of  flame,  surrounding 
a  well-lighted  insular  space.  The  wanderer  placed  himself  in  the 
dazzling  circle,  within  which,  glittering  lights  by  thousands  formed 
an  imposing  contrast  with  the  miners,  ranked  round  it  like  a  dark 
wall.  Forthwith  arose  the  gayest  music,  accompanied  by  becoming 
songs.  Hollow  masses  of  rock  came  forward  on  machinery,  and 
opened  a  resplendent  interior  to  the  eye  of  the  delighted  spectator. 
Mimetic  exhibitions,  and  whatever  else  at  such  a  moment  can  gratify 
the  multitude,  combined  with  all  this  at  once  to  excite  and  to  satisfy 
{I  cheerful  attention. 


CHAPTER  XV.  541 

But  witli  what  astonisliment  was  Wilhelm  filled,  when,  on  being 
introduced  to  tlie  superiors,  lie  observed  friend  Jarno,  in  solemn 
stately  robes,  among  tlie  number  !  Not  in  vain,"  cried  Jarno. 
"  have  I  changed  my  former  name  with  tlie  more  expressive  title  of 
Moiitan  ;  thou  findest  me  here  initiated  in  mountain  and  cave  ;  and 
now,  if  questioned,  I  could  disclose  and  exi)lain  to  thee  much  that  a 
year  ago  was  still  a  riddle  to  myself." 

At  this  point  our  manuscripts  forsake  us :  of  the  conversation  of 
these  friends  there  is  nothing  specified  ;  as  little  can  we  discover  the 
connection  of  what  follows  next ;  an  incident  of  which  in  the  same 
bundle,  in  the  same  paper,  Ave  find  brief  notice  :  That  a  meeting  had 
taken  place  between  our  wanderer  and  Lothario  and  the  abbe.  Un- 
happily, in  this,  as  in  so  many  other  leaves,  the  date  has  been  neglected. 
Some  passages,  introduced  rather  in  the  way  of  exclamation  than  of 
narrative,  point  to  the  high  meaning  of  renunciation,  by  which  alone 
the  first  real  entrance  into  life  is  conceivable.  Then  we  come  upon  a 
map,  marked  with  several  arrows,  pointing  towards  one  another  ;  and 
along  with  this  we  find,  in  a  certain  sequence,  several  days  of  the 
month  wi-itten  down  ;  so  that  we  might  fancy  ourselves  again  walk- 
ing in  the  real  world,  and  moderately  certain  as  to  the  next  part  of 
our  friend's  route,  were  it  not  that  here  also  various  marks  and  ciphers, 
appended  in  different  ways,  awoke  some  fear  that  a  secret  meaning  at 
the  bottom  of  it  would  forever  lie  hid  from  us. 

But  what  drives  us  out  of  all  historical  composure,  is  the  strange 
circumstance,  that  immediately  on  all  this  there  comes  in  the  most  im- 
probable narration  ;  of  a  sort  like  those  tales,  whereby  you  long  keep 
the  hearer's  curiosity  on  the  stretch  with  a  series  of  wonders,  and  at 
last  explain  :  That  you  were  talking  of  a  dream.  However,  we  shall 
communicate  witliout  change  what  lies  before  us  : 

"  If  hitherto  we  had  continued  in  the  metalliferous  part  of  the  moun- 
tains, which  externally  is  soft  and  by  no  means  of  a  wild  aspect,  I  was 
now  conducted  through  percipitous  and  scarcely  passable  rocks  and 
chasms  ;  at  last  I  gained  the  topmost  summit  ;  a  cliff,  the  peak  of 
which  afforded  room  only  for  a  single  person  ;  who  if  he  looked  down 
from  it  into  the  horrid  depth,  might  see  furious  mountain-torrents 
foaming  through  black  abysses.  In  the  present  case,  I  looked  down 
without  giddiness  or  terror,  for  I  was  light  of  heart  ;  but  now  my  at- 
tention fixed  itself  on  some  huge  crags  rising  opposite  me,  precipitous 
like  my  own,  yet  offering  on  their  summits  a  larger  space  of  level. 
Though  parted  by  a  monstrous  chasm,  the  jutting  masses  came  so  near 
together  that  I  could  distinctly  enough,  with  the  naked  eye,  observe 
several  persons  assembled  on  the  summit.  They  were  for  most  part 
ladies  ;  one  of  whom  coming  forward  to  the  very  verge,  awakened  in 
me  double  and  treble  anxiety,  as  I  became  completely  convinced  that 
it  was  Natalia  herself.     The  danger  of  such  an  unexpected  interview 


543  rEmrER' 8  TRAVELS. 

increased  every  momeut  ;  but  it  grew  boundless,  when  a  perspective 
came  before  my  eyes,  and  brought  ine  over  to  her,  and  her  over  to 
me  There  is  something  magical  at  all  times  in  perspective.  Were 
we  not  accustomed  from  youth  to  look  through  them,  we  should 
shudder  and  tremble  every  time  we  put  them  to  our  eyes.  It  is  we 
who  are  looking,  and  it  is  not  we  ;  a  being  it  is  whose  organs  are 
raised  to  a  higher  pitch,  whose  limitations  are  done  away,  who  has 
become  entitled  to  stretch  forth  into  infinitude. 

"  When,  for  example,  we  observe  far-distant  persons,  by  means  of 
such  an  instrument,  and  see  them  in  unsuspicious  thoughtlessness 
following  their  business  as  if  they  were  solitary  and  unwatched,  we 
could  almost  feel  afraid  lest  they  might  discover  us,  and  indignantly 
upbraid  us  for  our  treacherous  curiosity. 

"  And  so  likewise  did  I,  hemmed  in  by  a  strange  feeling,  waver 
between  proximity  and  distance,  and  from  instant  to  instant  alternate 
between  the  two.  * 

"  Those  others  in  their  turn  had  observed  us ;  as  a  signal  with  a 
white  handkerchief  put  beyond  a  doubt.  For  a  moment  I  delayed 
in  my  answer  to  it  ;  finding  myself  thus  close  beside  the  being  whom  I 
adored.  Thisisher  pure  benign  form  ;  these  are  her  taper  arms,  which 
once  so  helpfully  appeared  before  me,  after  unblessed  sorrows  and 
perplexities  ;  and  at  last  too,  though  but  for  moments,  sympathizingly 
embraced  me. 

"  I  saw  distinctly  enough  that  she  too  had  a  perspective,  and  was 
looking  over  to  me  ;  and  I  failed  not,  by  such  tokens  as  stood  at  my 
command,  to  express  the  profession  of  a  true  and  heartfelt  attach- 
ment. 

"  And  as  experience  teaches  that  remote  objects,  which  we  have 
once  clearly  recognized  through  •&,  perspective,  afterwards  appear 
even  to  the  naked  eye  as  if  standing  shaped  in  distinct  nearness  ;  be 
it  that  more  accurate  knowledge  sharpens  the  sense,  or  that  imagina- 
tion supplies  what  is  wanting  ;  so  now  did  I  see  this  beloved  being 
as  accurately  and  distinctly  as  if  I  could  have  touched  her  ;  though 
her  company  continued  still  irrecognizable  And  as  I  was  trampling 
round  my  narrow  station,  struggling  towards  her  the  more,  the  abyss 
was  like  to  swallow  me,  had  not  a  helpful  hand  laid  hold  of  mine, 
and  snatched  me  at  once  from  my  danger  and  my  fairest  happiness." 


CHAPTER  XVI  643 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Here  at  last  we  again  step  on  firmer  ground,  the  localities  of  which 
■we  can  settle  with  some  probability  ;  though  still  here  and  there  on 
our  way  there  occur  a  few  uncertainties,  vviiicii  it  is  not  in  our  power 
altogether  to  clear  up. 

As  Wilhelm,  in  order  to  reach  any  point  of  the  line  marked  out  by 
tlie  first  arrow,  had  to  proceed  obliquely  through  the  country,  he 
found  himself  necessitated  to  perform  the  journey  on  foot,  leaving 
his  luggage  to  be  carried  after  him.  For  this  walk  of  his,  however, 
he  was  riclily  rewarded  :  meeting  at  every  step,  quite  unexpectedly, 
with  loveliest  tracts  of  scenery.  They  were  of  that  sort,  which  the 
last  slope  of  mountain  i\?gion  forms  in  its  meeting  Avith  the  plain 
country  ;  bushy  hills,  their  soft  declivities  employed  in  domestic  use  ; 
all  level  spaces  green  ;  nowhere  aught  steep,  unfruitful  or  unplowed 
to  be  noticed.  Ere  long  he  reached  the  main  valley,  into  which  the 
side-waters  flowed  ;  and  this  too  was  carefully  cultivated,  graceful 
when  you  looked  over  it  ;  with  taper  trees  marking  the  bends  of  the 
river,  and  of  the  brooks  which  poured  into  it.  On  looking  at  his 
map,  his  indicator,  he  observed  with  surprise  that  the  line  drawn  for 
him  cut  directly  through  this  valley  ;  so  that,  in  the  first  place,  he 
was  at  least  on  the  right  road. 

An  old  castle,  in  good  repair,  and  seemingly  built  at  different  peri- 
ods, stood  forth  on  a  bushy  hill  ;  at  the  foot  of  which  a  gay  hamlet 
stretched  along,  with  its  large  inn  rising  prominent  among  the  other 
houses.  Hither  he  proceeded  ;  and  was  received  by  the  landlord 
kindly  enough,  yet  with  an  excuse  that  he  could  not  be  admitted, 
unless  by  the  permission  of  a  party  who  had  hired  the  whole  estab- 
lishment for  a  time  ;  on  which  account,  he,  the  landlord,  was  under  the 
necessity  of  sending  all  his  guests  to  the  older  inn,  which  lay  farther 
up  the  hamlet.  After  a  short  conference,  the  man  seemed  to  bethink 
himself,  and  said  :  ' '  Indeed  there  is  no  one  of  them  at  home  even 
now  ;  but  this  is  Saturday,  and  the  bailiff  will  not  fail  to  be  here 
soon  :  he  comes  every  week  to  settle  the  accounts  of  the  last,  and 
make  arrangements  for  the  next.  Truly,  there  is  a  fair  order  reigns 
among  these  men,  and  a  pleasure  in  having  to  do  with  them,  though 
they  are  strict  enough  ;  for  if  they  yield  one  no  great  profit,  it  is  sure 
and  constant."  He  then  desired  his  new  guest  to  amuse  himself  in 
the  large  upper  hall,  and  await  what  farther  might  occur. 

Here  Wilhelm,  on  entering,  found  a  large  clean  apartment  ;  except 
for  benches  and  tables,  altogether  empty.  So  much  the  more  was  he 
surprised  to  see  a  large  tablet  inserted  above  one  of  the  doors,  with' 
these  words  marked  on  it  in  golden  letters,  "  Ubi  homines  sunt  modi 
sunt "  ;  which  in  modern  tongue  may  signify,  that  where  men  com-: 


544  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

bine  in  society,  the  way  and  manner  in  which  they  like  to  be  and  to 
continue  together  is  directly  established.  This  motto  made  our  wan- 
derer think  ;  he  took  it  as  a  good  omen  ;  finding  here,  expressed  and 
confirmed,  a  principle  which  he  had  often,  in  the  course  of  life,  per- 
ceived for  himself  to  be  furthersome  and  reasonable.  He  had  not 
waited  long,  when  the  bailiff  made  his  appearance  ;  who  being  fore- 
warned by  the  landlord,  after  a  short  conversation,  and  no  special 
scrutiny,  admitted  Wilhelni  on  the  following  terms  :  To  continue 
three  days  ;  to  participate  quietly  in  whatever  should  occur  ;  and 
happen  what  might,  to  ask  no  questions  about  the  reason,  and  at  tak- 
ing leave,  to  ask  none  about  the  score.  All  this  our  traveler  was 
obliged  to  comjjly  with,  the  deputy  not  being  allowed  to  yield  in  a 
single  point. 

The  bailiff  was  about  retiring,  when  a  sound  of  vocal  music  rolled 
up  the  stairs  :  two  pretty  young  men  entered  singing  ;  and  these  the 
bailiff,  by  a  simple  sign,  gave  to  understand  that  their  guest  was 
accepted.  Without  interrupting  their  song,  they  kindly  saluted  the 
stranger,  and  continued  their  duet  with  the  finest  grace  ;  showing 
clearly  enough  that  they  were  well  trained,  and  complete  masters  of 
their  art.  As  Wilhelni  testified  the  most  attentive  interest,  they 
paused  and  inquired  :  If  in  his  own  pedestrian  wanderings  no  song  ever 
occurred  to  him,  which  he  went  along  singing  to  himself?  "  A  good 
voice,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "nature  has  in  truth  denied  me  ;  yet  I 
often  feel  as  if  a  secret  genius  were  whispering  some  rhythmic  words 
in  iny  ear  ;  so  that  in  walking,  I  move  to  musical  measure  :  fancying 
at  the  same  time  that  I  hear  low  tones,  accompanying  some  song, 
which,  in  one  way  or  another,  has  pleasantly  risen  before  me. " 

"  If  you  recollect  such  a  song,  write  it  down  for  us,"  said  they  : 
"  we  shall  see  if  we  have  skill  to  accompany  your  singing  dsnion." 
He  took  a  leaf  from  his  note-book,  and  handed  them  the  following- 
lines  : 

From  the  mountains  to  the  champaign, 

By  the  glens;  and  hills  along. 
Comes  a  rustling  and  a  tramping, 

Comes  a  motion  as  of  song  : 
And  this  undetermined  roving 

Brings  delight,  and  brings  pood  heed  ; 
And  thy  striving,  be't  with  ioving, 

And  thy  living,  be't  iu  deed  1 

After  brief  study,  there  arose  at  once  a  gay  marching  melody, 
which,  in  its  repetition  and  restriction  still  stepping  forward,  hurried 
on  the  hearer  with  it  :  he  was  in  doubt  whether  this  was  his  own 
tune,  his  former  theme  ;  or  one  now  for  the  first  time  so  fitted  to  the 
words,  that  no  other  movement  was  conceivable.  The  singers  had 
for  some  time  pleasantly  proceeded  in  this  manner,  when  two  stout 
young  fellows  came  in,  whom,  by  their  accouterments,  you  directly 
recognized  as  masons  ;  two  others,  who  followed  them,  being  as  evi- 
dently carpenters.    These  four,  softly  laying  down  their  tools,  listened 


CHAPTER  XVI.  545 

to  the  music,  and  soon  struck  in  with  sure  and  decided  voices  ;  so 
that  to  the  mind  it  seemed  as  if  a  real  wayfaring  company  were 
stepping  along  over  hill  and  valley  ;  and  Wifiielm  thought  he  had 
never  heard  anything  so  graceful,  so  enlivening  to  heart  and  mind. 
This  enjoyment,  however,  was  to  he  increased  yet  farther,  and  raised 
to  the  highest  pitch,  by  the  entrance  of  a  gigantic  figure,  mounting 
the  stairs  with  a  hard  firm  tread,  which,  with  all  his  efforts,  he  could 
scarcely  moderate.  A  heavy-laden  dorsel  lie  directly  jilaced  in  the 
corner  ;  himself  he  seated  on  a  bench,  which  beginning  to  creak 
under  his  weight,  the  others  laughed,  yet  without  going  wrong  in 
their  mu.sic.  VVilhelm,  however,  was  exceedingly  surprised,- when, 
with  a  huge  bass  voice,  this  son  of  Anak  joined  in  also.  Tlie  hall 
quivered  ;  and  it  was  to  be  observed  that  in  his  part  he  altered  the 
burden,  and  sang  it  thus  : 

Life's  no  resting,  but  a  moving, 
Let  thy  life  be  deed  on  deed  I 

Farther,  you  could  very  soon  perceive  that  he  was  drawing  down  the 
time  to  a  slower  step,  and  forcing  the  rest  to  follow  him.  Of  this, 
when  at  last  they  were  satisfied  and  had  concluded,  they  accused 
him  ;  declaring  he  liad  tried  to  set  them  wrong. 

"  Not  at  all  !  "  cried  he  :  "  it  is  you  who  tried  to  set  me  wrong  ; 
to  put  me  out  of  my  own  step,  which  must  be  measured  and  sure, 
if  I  am  to  walk  with  my  loading  up  hill  and  down  dale,  and  yet,  in 
the  end,  arrive  at  my  appointed  hour,  to  satisfy  your  wants." 

One  after  the  other,  these  persons  now  passed  into  an  adjoiningj 
room  to  the  bailiff  ;  .and  Wilhelm  easily  observed  that  they  were  oc- 
cupied in  settling  accounts  ;  a  point,  however,  as  to  which  he  was| 
not  allowed  at  present  to  inquire  farther.  Two  fair  lively  boys  in' 
the  meanwhile  entered,  and  began  covering  a  table  in  all  speed, 
moderately  furnishing  it  with  meat  and  wine  ;  and  the  bailiff,  coming 
out,  invited  them  all  to  sit  down  along  with  him.  The  boys  waited  ; 
yet  forgot  not  their  own  concern,  but  enjoyed  their  share  in  a  stand- 
ing posture.  Wilhelm  recollected  witnessing  similar  scenes  during 
his  abode  among  the  players  ;  yet  the  present  company  seemed  to  be 
of  a  much  more  serious  cast  ;  constituted  not  out  of  sport,  for  sliow, 
but  with  a  view  to  important  concerns  of  life. 

The  conversation  of  the  craftsmen  with  the  bailiff  added  strength 
to  this  conviction.  These  four  active  young  people,  it  appeared, 
were  busy  in  the  neighborhood,  where  a  violent  conflagration  had  de- 
stroyed the  fairest  village  in  the  country  ;  nor  did  Wilhelm  fail  to 
learn  that  the  worthy  bailiff  was  employed  in  getting  timber  and 
other  building  materials  ;  all  of  which  looked  the  more  enigmatical, 
as  none  of  these  persons  seemed  to  be  resident  here,  but  in  all  other 
points  announced  themselves  as  transitory  strangers.  By  way  of 
conclusion  to  the  meal,  St.  Christopher,  such  was  the  name  they  gave 
the  giant,  brought  out,  for  good-night,  a  dainty  glass  of  wine,  which 
Meister — 18 


o4G  .  MEISTER^S  TBAVEL8. 

bad  before  been  set  aside  :  a  gay  clioral  soug  kept  tbe  party  still 
some  time  together,  after  tliey  were  out  of  sight ;  and  then  Wilhelm 
was  at  last  conducted  to  a  chamber  of  the  loveliest  aspect  and  situa- 
tion. The  full  moon,  enlightening  a  rich  plain,  was  already  up  ;  and 
in  the  bosom  of  our  wanderer  it  awoke  remembrances  of  similar 
scenes.  The  spirits  of  all  dear  friends  hovered  past  him  ;  especially 
the  image  of  Lenardo  rose  in  him  so  vividly,  that  he  might  have 
fancied  the  man  himself  was  standing  before  his  eyes.  All  this  had 
prepared  him  with  its  kind  influences  for  nightly  rest  ;  when,  on  a 
sudden,  there  arose  a  tone  of  so  strange  a  nature,  that  it  almost 
frightened  him.  It  sounded  as  from  a  distance,  and  yet  seemed  to 
be  in  the  house  itself  ;  for  the  building  quivered  many  times,  and 
the  floors  reverberated  when  the  sound  rose  to  the  highest  pitch. 
Wilhelm,  though  his  ear  was  usually  delicate  in  discriminating 
tones,  could  make  nothing  of  this  ;  he  compared  it  to  the  droning 
roar  of  a  huge  organ-pipe,  which,  for  sheer  compass,  produces  no  de- 
terminate note.  Whether  this  nocturnal  terror  passed  away  towards 
morning,  or  Wilhelm  by  degrees  became  accustomed  to  the  sound, 
and  no  longer  heeded  it,  is  difficult  to  discover  :  at  any  rate,  he  fell 
asleep  ;  and  was  in  due  time  pleasantly  awakened  by  the  rising  sun. 

Scarcely  had  one  of  the  boys  who  were  in  waiting  bxouglit  him 
breakfast,  when  a  figure  entered,  whom  he  had  alread.v  noticed  last 
night  at  supper,  without  clearly  ascertaining  his  quality.  A  well- 
formed,  broad-shouldered,  yet  nimble  man  ;  who  now,  by  the  imple- 
ments he  spread  out,  announced  himself  asjjarber,  and  forthwith 
prepared  for  preforming  his  much-desired  office  on  Wilhelm.  For  the 
rest,  he  was  quite  silent  ;  and  with  a  light  hand  he  went  through  his 
task,  without  once  having  opened  his  lips.  Wilhelm  therefore  began, 
and  said  :  "Of  your  art  you  are  completely  master  ;  and  I  know  not 
that  I  have  ever  had  a  softer  razor  on  my  cheeks  ;  at  the  same  time, 
howev(.r,  you  appear  to  be  a  strict  observer  of  the  laws  of  the  society." 

lloguishly  smiling,  laying  his  finger  on  his  lips,  the  taciturn  shaver 
glided  though  the  door.  "  Bymy  sooth,"  cried  Wilhelm  after  him,  "  I 
think  you  must  be  old  Eedcloak  ;  if  not  himself,  at  least  a  descendant 
of  his  ;  it  is  lucky  for  you  that  you  ask  no  counter  service  of  me  ;  your 
turn  would  have  been  but  sorrily  done." 

]S^o  sooner  had  this  curious  jjersonage  retired,  than  the  well-known 
baliff  came  in,  inviting  our  friend  to  dinner  for  this  day,  in  words 
which  sounded  pretty  strange  :  the  Bond,  so  said  the  speaker  express- 
ly, gave  the  stranger  welcome  ;  requested  his  company  at  dinner  ; 
and  took  pleasure  in  the  hope  of  being  more  closely  connected  with 
him.  Inquiries  were  then  made  as  to  the  guest's  health,  and  how  he 
was  contented  with  his  entertainment ;  to  all  which  he  could  only 
answer  in  terms  of  satisfaction.  He  would,  in  truth,  have  liked 
much  to  ask  of  this  man,  as  previously  of  the  silent  barber,  some 
information  touching  the  horrid  sound  -w  hich  throughout  the  night 
liad,  if  not  tormented,  at  least  discomposed  him  ;  but,  mindful  of  his 


CHAPTER  XVL  547 

engagement,  he  forbore  all  questions  ;  hoping  that,  without  importu- 
nity, from  the  good-will  of  the  society,  or  in  some  other  accidental 
way,  he  might  be  informed  according  to  his  wishes. 

Our  friend  now,  when  left  alone,  began  to  reflect  on  the  strange 
person  who  had  sent  him  this  invitation,  and  knew  not  well  what  to 
make  of  the  matter.  To  designate  one  or  more  superiors  by  a  neuter 
noun,  seemed  to  him  a  somewhat  precarious  mode  of  speech.  For  the 
rest,  there  was  such  a  stillness  all  around,  that  he  could  not  recollect 
of  ever  having  passed  a  stiller  Sunday.  He  went  out  of  doors  ;  and, 
hearing  a  sound  of  bells,  walked  towards  the  village.  Mass  was  just 
over  ;  and  among  the  villagers  and  country-people  crowding  out  of 
church,  he  observed  three  acquaintances  of  last  night  ;  a  mason,  a 
carpenter  and  a  boy.  Farther  on,  he  met  among  the  Protestant  wor- 
shipers the  other  corresponding  three.  How  the  rest  managed  their 
devotion  was  unknown  to  him  ;  but  so  much  he  thought  himself 
entitled  to  conclude,  that  in  this  society  a  full  religious  toleration  was 
practiced. 

About  mid-day,  at  the  castle  gate,  he  was  met  by  the  bailiff ;  who 
then  conducted  him  through  various  halls  into  a  large  ante-chamber, 
and  there  desired  him  to  take  a  seat.  Many  persons  passed  through 
into  an  adjoining  hall.  Those  already  known  were  to  be  seen  among 
them  ;  St.  Christopher  himself  went  by  :  all  saluted  the  bailiff  and  the 
stranger.  But  what  struck  our  friend  mo.st  in  this  affair  was,  that 
the  whole  party  seemed  to  consist.of  artisans  ;  all  dressed  in  the  usual 
fashion,  though  extremely  neat  and  clean  ;  a  few  among  tli6  number 
you  might  at  most  perhaps  have  reckoned  of  the  clerk  species. 

No  more  guests  novy  making  their  appearance,  the  bailiff  led  our 
friend  through  the  stately  door  into  a  spacious  hall.  Here  a  table  of 
immense  length  had  been  covered  ;  past  the  lower  end  of  which  he 
was  conducted,  towards  the  head,  where  he  saw  three  persons  stand- 
ing in  a  cross  direction.  But  what  was  his  astonishment  wlien  he 
approached,  and  Leuardo,  scarcely  yet  recognized,  fell  upon  his  neck. 
From  this  surprise  he  had  not  recovered,  when  another  person,  with 
no  less  warmtli  and  vivacity,  likewse  embraced  him  ;  announcing 
himself  as  our  strange  Friedrich,  Natalia's  brother.  The  rapture  of 
these  friends  diffused  itself  over  all  present  ;  an  exclamation  of  joy 
and  blessing  sounded  along  the  whole  table.  But  in  a  moment,  the 
company  being  seated,  all  again  became  silent  ;  and  the  repast,  served 
np  with  a  certain  solemnity,  was  enjoyed  in  like  manner. 

Towards  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony,  Lenardo  gave  a  sign  ;  two 
singers  rose,  and  Wilhelm  was  exceedingly  surprised  to  hear  in  this 
place  his  yesternight's  song  ;  which  we,  for  the  sake  of  what  follows, 
phall  beg  permission  to  insert  once  more  : 

From  the  monntainp  to  the  champaign, 

By  the  glens  and  hills  along. 
Comes  a  rustling  and  a  tramping, 

Comes  a  motion  as  of  song. 


548  MEISTEB'S  TRAVELS. 

And  this  undetermined  roving 

Brings  delight,  and  brings  good  heed  ; 
And  thy'tstriving,  be't  with  loving. 

And  thy  living,  be't  in  deed  1 

Scarcely  had  this  duet,  accompanied  by  a  chorus  of  agreeable  num- 
ber, approached  its  conclusion,  when  two  other  singers,  on  the  oppo- 
site side,  started  up  impetuotxsly  ;  and,  with  earnest  vehemence, 
inverted  rather  than  continued  the  song  ;  to  Wilhelm's  astonishment, 
proceeding  thus  : 

For  the  tie  is  snapp'd  asunder, 

Trust  and  loving  hope  are  fled  ; 
Can  I  tell,  in  fear  and  wonder. 

With  what  dangers  round  bested, 
I,  cut  off  from  friend  and  brother. 

Like  the  widow  in  her  woe, 
With  the  one  and  not  the  other. 

Now  my  weary  way  must  go  1 

The  chorus,  taking  u*p  this  strophe,  grew  more  and  more  numer- 
ous, more  and  more  vociferous  ;  and  yet  the  voice  of  St.  Christopher, 
from  the  bottom  of  the  table,  could  still  be  distinctly  recognized 
among  them.  The  lamentation,  in  the  end,  rose  almost  to  be  fright- 
ful ;  a  spirit  of  dispiritment,  combining  with  the  skillful  execution  of 
the  singers,  introduced  something  unnatural  into  the  whole,  so  that 
it  pained  our  friend,  and  almost  made  him  shudder.  In  truth,  they 
all  seemed  perfectly  of  one  mind,  and  as  if  lamenting  their  own  fate 
on  the  eve  of  a  separation.  The  strange  repetitions,  the  frequent 
resitscitation  of  a  fatiguing  song,  at  length  became  dangerous  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Bond  itself.  Lenardo  rose,  and  all  instantly  sat  down, 
abruptly  breaking  off  their  hymn.  The  other,  with  friendly  words, 
thus  l)egan  : 

' '  Indeed  I  cannot  blame  you  for  continually  recalling  to  yottr  minds 
the  destiny  which  stands  before  us  all,  that  so,  at  any  hour,  you  may 
be  ready  for  it.  If  aged  and  life  weary  men  have  called  to  their  neigh- 
bors :  Think  of  dying  !  we  younger  and  life-loving  men  may  well 
keep  encouraging  and  reminding  one  another  with  the  cheerful 
words  :  Think  of  wandering  !  Yet,  withal,  of  a  thing  which  we 
either  voluntarily  undertake,  or  believe  ourselves  constrained  to,  it 
were  well  to  speak  with  cheerfulness  and  moderation.  You  your- 
selves know  best  what,  in  our  situation,  is  fixed,  and  what  is  mov- 
able :  let  us  enjoy  the  former  too,  in  sprightly  and  gay  tones  ;  and  to 
its  success  be  this  parting  cup  now  drunk  !  "  He  emptied  his  glass, 
and  sat  down  :  the  four  singers  instantly  rose,  and  in  flowing,  con- 
nected tones,  thus  began  : 

Keep  not  standing  fl.^'d  and  rooted. 

Briskly  venture,  brisklj'  roam  ; 
Head  and  hand,  \vhere'er  thou  foot  it, 

And  stout  heart,  arc  still  at  home. 


CHAPTER  XVI.  549 

In  each  land  the  sun  does  visit 

We  are  gay  whiiteVT  betide  : 
To  give  room  for  waiidriiig  is  it 

That  the  world  was  made  so  wide. 

As  tlie  cliorus  struck  in  with  its  repetition  of  these  lines,  Lenardo 
rose,  with  him  all  the  rest.  His  nod  set  the  whole  company  into 
singing  movement  ;  those  at  the  lower  end  marched  out,  St.  Christo- 
pher at  their  head,  in  pairs  through  the  hall  ;  and  the  uplifted 
wanderers'  song  grew  clearer  and  freer,  the  farther  they  proceeded  ; 
producing  at  last  a  particularly  good  effect,  when,  from  the  terraces 
of  the  castle-gardeia,  you  looked  down  over  the  broad  valley,  in  whose 
fullness  and  beauty  you  might  well  have  liked  to  lose  yourself. 
While  the  multitude  were  dispersing  this  way  and  that,  according  to 
tl.'eir  pleasure,  Wilhelm  was  made  acqtiainted  with  the  third  superior. 
This  was  the  amtmann  ;  by  whose  kind  influence  many  favors  had 
been  done  the  society  ;  in  particular,  the  castle  of  his  patron  the 
count,  situated  among  several  families  of  rank,  had  been  given  up  to 
their  use,  so  long  as  they  might  think  fit  to  tarry  here. 

Towards  evening,  while  the  friends  were  in  a  far-seeing  grove, 
there  came  a  portly  figure  over  the  threshold,  whom  Wilhelm  at  once 
recognized  as  the  barber  of  this  morning.  To  a  low  mute  bow  of 
the  man,  Lenardo  answered  :  "  You  now  come,  as  always,  at  the  right 
season  ;  and  will  not  delay  to  entertain  us  with  your  talent.  I  may 
be  allowed,"  continued  he,  turning  towards  Wilhelm,  "to  give  you 
some  knowledge  of  our  society,  the  Bond  of  which  I  may  flatter  my- 
self that  I  am.  No  one  enters  our  circle  unless  he  have  some  talents 
to  show,  which  may  contribute  to  the  use  or  enjoyment  of  society  in 
general.  This  man  is  an  excellent  surgeon  ;  of  his  skill  as  beard- 
artist  you  yourself  can  testify  ;  for  these  reasons  he  is  no  less  welcome 
than  necessary  to  us.  Xow,  as  his  employment  usually  brings  with 
it  a  great  and  often  burdensome  garrulity,  he  has  engaged,  for  the 
sake  of  his  own  culture,  to  comply  with  a  certain  condition  ;  as,  in- 
deed, every  one  that  means  to  live  with  us  must  agree  to  constrain 
himself  in  some  particular  point,  if  the  greater  freedom  be  left  him 
in  all  other  points.  Accordingly  our  barber  has  renounced  the  use  of 
his  tongue,  in  so  far  as  aught  common  or  casual  is  to  be  expressed  by 
it  ;  but  by  this  means,  another  gift  of  speech  has  been  unfolded  in 
him,  which  acts  by  forethought,  cunningly  and  pleastirably  ;  I  mean 
the  gift  of  narration. 

"  His  life  is  rich  in  wonderful  experiences,  which  he  used  to  split 
in  pieces,  babbling  of  them  at  wrong  times  ;  but  which  he  now,  con- 
strained by  silence,  repeats  and  arranges  in  his  (juiet  thought.  This 
also  his  power  of  imagination  now  forwards,  lending  life  and 
movement  to  past  occurrences.  With  no  common  art  and  skill,  he 
can  relate  to  us  genuine  antique  tales,  or  modern  stories  of  the  same 
fabulous  cast  ;  thereby  at  the  right  hour  affording  us  a  most  pleasant 
entertainment,  when  I  loose  his  tongue  for  him  ;  which  I  now  do  ; 


550  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

giving  liim,  at  the  same  time,  this  praise,  that  in  the  considerable 
period  during  which  I  have  known  him,  he  has  never  once  been 
guilty  of  a  repetition.  I  cannot  but  hope  that,  in  the  present  case, 
for  love  and  respect  to  our  dear  guest,  he  will  especially  distinguish 
himself." 

A  sprightly  cheerfulness  spread  over  Redcloak's  face  ;  and  without 
delay  he  began  speaking  as  follows. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  NEW   MELUSINA. 

"  Respected  gentlemen  !  Being  aware  that  preliminary  speeches 
and  introductions  are  not  much  to  your  taste,  I  shall  without  farther 
talk  assure  you,  that  in  the  present  instance,  I  hope  to  fulfill  your 
commission  moderately  well.  From  me  has  many  a  true  history 
gone  forth  already,  to  the  high  and  universal  satisfaction  of  hearers  : 
but,  to  day  I  may  assert,  that  I  have  one  to  tell,  which  far  surpasses 
the  former  ;  and  which,  though  it  happened  to  me  several  years  ago, 
still  disquiets  me  in  recollecting  it,  nay,  still  gives  hope  of  some 
farther  development. 

"  By  way  of  introduction,  let  me  confess,  that  I  have  not  always  so 
arranged  my  scheme  of  life  as  to  be  certain  of  the  next  period  in  it, 
or  even  of  the  next  daj'.  In  my  youth,  I  was  no  first-rate  economist  ; 
and  often  found  myself  in  manifold  perplexity.  At  one  time  I  under- 
took a  journey,  thinking  to  derive  good  profit  in  the  course  of  it  : 
but  the  scale  I  went  upon  was  too  liberal  ;  and  after  having  com- 
menced my  travel  with  extrapost,  and  then  prosecuted  it  for  a  time 
in  the  diligence,  I  at  last  found  myself  obliged  to  front  the  end  of  it 
on  foot. 

"  Like  a  gay  young  blade,  it  had  been  from  of  old  my  custom  on 
entering  any  inn,  to  look  round  for  the  landlady,  or  even  the  cook, 
and  wheedle  myself  into  favor  with  her,  whereby,  for  most  part,  my 
shot  was  somewhat  reduced. 

"One  night  at  dusk,  as  I  was  entering  the  post-house  of  a  little 
town,  and  purposing  to  set  about  my  customary  operations,  there 
came  a  fair  double-seated  coach  with  four  horses  rattling  up  to  the 
door  behind  me.  I  turned  round,  and  observed  in  it  a  young  lady, 
without  maid,  without  servants.  I  hastened  to  open  the  carriage  for 
her,  and  to  ask  if  I  could  help  her  in  anything.  On  stepping  out,  a 
fair  form  displayed  itself  ;  and  her  lovely  countenance,  if  you  looked 
at  it  narrowly,  was  adorned  with  a  slight  shade  of  sorrow.  I  again 
asked  if  there  was  aught  I  could  do  for  her.     '  0  yes  ! '  said  she,  '  if 


CHAPTER  XVII.  551 

you  will  lift  that  little  box  carefully,  which  you  will  find  standing  on 
the  seat,  and  bring  it  in  ;  but  I  beg  very  much  of  you  to  carry  it  with 
all  steadiness,  and  hot  to  move  or  shake  it  in  the  least.'  I  took  out 
the  box  with  great  care  ;  she  shut  the  coach  door  ;  we  walked  upstairs 
Together,  and  she  told  the  servants  that  she  was  to  stay  here  for  the 
night. 

"  We  were  now  alone  in  the  chamber  ;  she  desired  me  to  put  the 
box  on  the  table,  which  was  standing  at  the  wall ;  and  as,  by  several 
of  her  movements,  I  observed  that  she  wished  to  be  alone,  I  took  my 
leave,  reverently  but  warml}'  kissing  her  hand. 

"  '  Order  supper  for  us  two,'  said  she  then  ;  and  you  may  well  con- 
ceive with  what  pleasure  I  executed  the  commission  ;  scarcely  deign- 
ing, in  my  pride  of  heart  to  cast  even  a  side  look  on  landlady  and 
menials.  With  impatience  I  expected  the  moment  that  was  to  lead 
me  back  to  her.  Supper  was  served  ;  we  took  oar  seats  opposite  to 
each  other  ;  I  refreshed  my  heart,  for  the  first  time  during  a  consider- 
able while,  with  a  good  meal  ;  and  no  less  with  so  desirable  a  sight 
beside  me  :  nay,  it  seemed  as  if  she  were  growing  fairer  and  fairer 
every  moment. 

•'  Her  conversation  was  pleasant  ;  yet  she  carefully  waved  wdiatever 
had  reference  to  affection  and  love.  The  cloth  was  removed  ;  I  still 
lingered,  I  tried  all  sorts  of  maneuvers  to  get  near  her,  but  in  vain  ; 
she  kept  me  at  my  distance,  by  a  certain  dignity  which  I  could  not 
withstand  ;  nay,  against  my  will,  I  had  to  part  with  her  at  a  rather 
early  hour. 

"  After  a  night  passed  in  waking  or  unrestfully  dreaming,  I  rose 
early  ;  inquired  whether  she  had  ordered  horses  ;  and  learning  that 
she  had  not,  I  walked  into  the  garden,  saw  her  standing  dressed  at 
-the  window,  and  hastened  up  to  her.  Here,  as  she  looked  so  fair,  and 
fairer  than  ever,  love,  roguery  and  audacity  all  at  dnce  started  into 
motion  within  me  :  1  rushed  towards  her  and  clasped  her  in  my  arms. 
'  Angelic,  irresistible  being,'  cried  1,  '  pardon  !  but  it  is  impossible —  !'^ 
With  incredible  dexterity  she  whisked  herself  out  of  my  arms,  and  I 
had  not  even  time  to  imprint  a  kiss  on  her  cheek.  '  Forbear  such  out- 
breakings  of  a  sudden  foolish  passion,'  said  she,  'if  you  would  not 
scare  away  a  happiness  which  lies  close  beside  you,  but  which  cannot 
be  laid  hold  of  till  after  some  trials.' 

"  '  Ask  of  me  what  thou  pleasest,  angelic  spirit  ! '  cried  I  ;  '  but  do 
not  drive  me  to  despair.'  She  answered  with  a  smile  :  '  If  you  mean 
to  devote  yourself  to  my  service,  hear  the  terms.  I  am  come  hither 
to  visit  a  iady  of  my  friends,  and  with  her  I  purpose  to  continue  for 
a  time  ;  in  the  meanwhile,  I  could  wish  that  my  carriage  and  this 
box  were  taken  forward.  Will  you  engage  with  it  ?  You  have  noth- 
ing to  do,  but  carefully  to  lift  the  box  into  the  carriage  and  out  ;  to 
sit  down  beside  it,  and  punctually  take  charge  that  it  receive  no  harm. 
When  you  enter  an  inn,  it  is  nut  upon  a  table,  in  a  chamber  by  itself, 
in  which  you  must  neither  sit  nor  sleep.     You  lock  the  chamber  door 


553  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

with  this  key,  which  will  open  and  shut  any  lock,  and  has  the  pecu- 
liar property,  that  no  lock  shut  by  it  can  be  opened  in  the  interim.' 

"  I  looked  at  her  ;  I  felt  strangely  enough  at  heart ;  I  promised  to 
do  all,  if  I  might  hope  to  see  her  soon,  and  if  she  would  seal  this 
hope  to  me  with  a  kiss.  She  did  so  ;  and  from  that  moment,  I  had 
become  entirely  her  bondman.  I  was  now  to  order  horses,  she  said. 
We  settled  the  way  I  was  to  take  ;  the  ])laces  where  I  was  to  wait, 
and  expect  her.  She  at  last  pressed  a  purse  of  gold  into  my  hand, 
and  I  pressed  my  lips  on  the  fair  hand  that  gave  it  nie.  She  seemed 
moved  at  parting  ;  and  for  me,  I  no  longer  knew  what  I  was  doing  or 
was  to  do. 

"On  my  return  from  giving  my  orders,  I  found  the  room  door 
locked.  I  directly  tried  my  master-key,  and  it  performed  its  duty 
perfectly.  Tlie  door  flew  up  ;  1  found  the  cliamber  empty  ;  only  the 
l)ox  standing  on  tlie  table  where  I  had  laid  it. 

"  The  carriage  drove  up  ;  I  carried  the  box  carefully  down  with 
me,  and  placed  it  by  my  side.  The  hostes.s  asked  :  '  Where  is  the 
lady,  then  V '  A  child  answered:  'She  is  gone  into  the  town.'  I 
nodded  to  the  people  ;  and  rolled  off  in  triumph  from  the  door,  wliich 
I  had  last  night  entered  with  dusty  gaiters.  That  in  my  hours  of 
leisure  I  dilligently  meditated  on  this  adventure,  counted  my  monej^ 
laid  many  schemes,  and  still  now  and  then  kept  glancing  at  the  box, 
you  will  readily  imagine.  I  posted  right  forward  ;  passed  several 
stages  without  alighting  ;  and  rested  not  till  1  had  reached  a  consider- 
able town,  where  my  fair  one  had  appointed  me  to  wait.  Her  com- 
mands had  been  pointedly  obeyed :  the  box  always  carried  to  a 
separate  room,  and  two  wax  candles  lighted  beside  it,  for  such  also 
liad  been  her  order.  I  would  then  lock  the  chamber  ;  establish  my- 
self in  my  own,  and  take  such  comfort  as  the  place  aiforded. 

"  For  a  while  I  was  able  to  employ  myself  with  thinking  of  her  ; 
but  by  degrees  the  time  began  to  hang  heavy  on  my  hands.  I  Avas 
not  used  to  live  without  companions  :  these  I  soon  found,  at  tables- 
d'hote,  in  coifee-houses  and  public  places,  altogether  to  my  wish.  In 
such  a  mode  of  living  my  money  began  to  melt  away  ;  and  one  night, 
it  vanished  entirely  from  my  purse,  in  a  fit  of  passionate  gaming, 
which  I  had  not  had  the  prudence  to  abandon.  Void  of  money  ;  with 
the  appearance  of  a  rich  man,  expecting  a  heavy  bill  of  charges  ;  un- 
certain whether  and  when  my  fair  one  would  again  make  her  appear- 
ance, I  felt  myself  in  the  deepest  embarrassment.  Donbly  did  I  now 
Ipng  for  her  ;  and  believe  that,  without  her  and  her  gold,  it  was  quite 
impossible  for  me  to  live. 

"  After  supper,  which  I  had  reli.shed  very  little,  being  forced  for 
tins  time  to  consume  it  in  solitude,  I  took  to  walking  violently  up  and 
rlown  my  room :  I  spoke  aloud  to  myself,  cursed  my  folly  with  horrid 
execrations,  threw  myself  on  the  floor,  tore  my  hair,  and  indeed  be- 
haved in  the  most  outrageous  fashion.  Suddenly,  in  the  adjoining 
chamber  where  the  box  was,  I  lieard  a  slisrht  movement,  and  then  a 


CHAPTER  XVII.  553 

soft  knocking  at  the  well -bolted  door,  which  entered  from  my  apart- 
ment. I  gather  myself,  grope  for  my  master-key  ;  but  the  door- leaves 
fly  up  of  themselves  ;  and  in  the  splendor  of  those  burning  wax-lights 
enters  ray  beauty.  I  cast  myself  at  her  feet,  kiss  her  robe,  her  hands  ; 
she  raises  me  ;  I  venture  not  to  clasp  her,  scarcely  to  look  at  her  ; 
but  candidly  and  repentantly  confess  to  her  my  fault.  'It  is  par- 
donable,' said  she  ;  '  only  it  postpones  your  happiness  and  mine. 
You  must  now  make  another  tour  into  the  world  before  we  can  meet 
again.  Here  is  more  money,'  continued  she,  '  sufficient  if  you  hus-  ' 
band  it  with  any  kind  of  reason.  But  as  wine  and  play  have  brought 
you  into  this  perplexity,  be  on  your  guard  in  future  against  wine  and 
women,  and  let  me  hope  for  a  glad  meeting  when  the  time  comes.' 

"  She  retired  over  the  threshold  :  the  door-leaves  flew  together  ;  I 
knocked,  I  entreated  ;  but  nothing  farther  stirred.  Next  morning, 
while  presenting  his  bill,  the  waiter  smiled,  and  said  :  '  So  we  have 
found  out  at  last,  then,  why  you  lock  your  door  in  so  artful  and  incom- 
prehensible a  way,  that  no  master-key  can  open  it.  We  supposed 
you  must  have  much  money  and  precious  ware  laid  tip  by  you  ;  but 
now  we  have  seen  your  treasure  walking  downstairs  ;  and  in  good 
truth  it  seemed  worthy  of  being  well  kept.' 

"  To  this  I  answered  nothing  ;  but  paid  my  reckoning,  and  mounted 
with  my  box  into  the  carriage.  I  again  rolled  forth  into  the  world, 
with  the  firmest  resolution  to  be  heedful  in  future  of  the  warning 
given  me  by  my  fair  and  mysterious  friend.  Scarcely,  however,  liad^ 
I  once  more  reached  a  large  town,  when  forthwith  I  got  acquainted' 
with  certain  interesting  ladies,  from  whom  I  absolutely  cotild  notj 
tear  myself  away.  They  seemed  inclined  to  make  me  pay  dear  fori 
their  favor  ;  for  while  they  still  kept  me  at  a  certain  distance,  they 
led  me  into  one  expense  after  the  other  ;  and  I,  being  anxious  only 
to  promote  their  satisfaction,  once  more  ceased  to  think  of  my  purse, 
but  paid  and  spent  straightfoward,  as  occasion  needed.  But  how 
great  was  my  astonishment  and  joy,  when,  after  sojne  weeks,  I 
observed  that  the  fullness  of  my  store  was  not  iu  the  least  diminished, 
that  my  purse  was  still  as  round  and  crammed  as  ever  !  Wishing  to 
obtain  more  strict  knowledge  of  this  pretty  quality,  I  set  myself  down 
to  count ;  I  accurately  marked  the  sum  ;  and  again  proceeded  in  my 
joyous  life  as  before.  We  had  no  want  of  excursions  by  laud,  and 
excursions  by  water  ;  of  dancing,  singing  and  other  recreations.  But 
now  it  required  small  attention  to  observe  that  the  purse  was  actually 
diminishing  ;  as  if  by  my  cursed  counting  I  had  robbed  it  of  tile 
property  of  being  uncountable.  However,  tliis  gay  mode  of  existence 
had  been  once  entered  on  ;  I  could  not  draw  back  ;  and  yet  my  ready 
money  soon  verged  to  a  close.  I  execrated  my  situation  ;  upbraided 
my  fair  friend,  for  having  so  led  me  into  temptation  ;  took  it  as  an 
offense  that  she  did  not  again  show  herself  to  me  ;  renounced,  in  my 
spleen,  all  duties  towards  her  ;  and  resolved  to  break  open  the  box, 
and  see  if  peradventure  any  help  might  be  found  there,     I  was  just 


554  MEISTEIt'S  TRAVELS. 

about  proceeding  witli  my  purpose  ;  but  I  put  it  off  till  night,  that  I 
might  go  through  the  business  with  full  composure  ;  and,  in  the 
meantime.  I  hastened  ofE  to  a  banquet,  for  which  this  was  the  ap- 
pointed hour,  Here  again  we  got  into  a  high  key  ;  the  wine  and 
trumpet-sounding  had  flushed  me  not  a  little,  when  by  the  most 
villainous  luclc  it  chanced,  that  during  the  dessert,  a  former  friend  of 
my  dearest  fair  one,  returning  from  a  journey,  entered  unexpectedly, 
placed  himself  beside  her,  and  without  much  ceremony,  set  about 
asserting  his  old  privileges.  Hence  very  soon  arose  ill-humor,  quar- 
reling and  battle  ;  we  plucked  out  our  spits  ;  and  I  was  carried  home 
half  dead  of  several  wounds. 

"The  surgeon  had  bandaged  me  and  gone  away  :  it  was  far  in 
the  night  ;  my  sick  nurse  had  fallen  asleep  ;  the  door  of  the  side- 
room  went  up  ;  my  fair  mysterious  friend  came  in,  and  sat  down  by 
me  on  the  bed.  She  asked  how  I  was  :  I  answered  not,  for  I  was 
faint  and  sullen.  She  continued  speaking  with  much  sympathy  : 
she  rubbed  my  temples  with  a  certain  balsam,  whereby  I  felt  myself 
rapidly  and  decidedly  strengthened,  so  strengthened  that  I  could  now 
get  angry  and  upbraid  her.  In  a  violent  speech  I  threw  all  the 
blame  of  my  misfortune  on  her  ;  on  tlie  passion  she  had  inspired  me 
with  ;  on  her  appearing  and  vanishing,  and  the  tedium,  the  longing 
which  in  such  a  case  I  could  not  but  feel.  I  waxed  more  and  more 
vehement,  as  if  a  fever  had  been  coming  on  ;  and  I  swore  to  her  at 
last,  that  if  she  would  not  be  mine,  would  not  now  abide  with  me 
and  wed  me,  I  had  no  wish  to  live  any  longer  ;  to  all  which  I  re- 
quired a  peremptory  answer.  As  she  lingered  and  held  back  with 
her  explanation,  I  got  altogether  beside  myself,  and  tore  off  my 
double  and  triple  bandages,  in  the  firmest  resolution  to  bleed  to 
death.  But  what  was  my  amazement,  when  I  found  all  my  wounds 
healed,  my  skin  smooth  and  entire,  and  this  fair  friend  in  my  arms  ! 

"  Henceforth  we  were  the  happiest  pair  in  the  world.  We  both 
begged  pardon  of  each  other,  without  either  of  us  rightly  knowing 
why.  She  now  promised  to  travel  on  along  with  me  ;  and  soon  we 
were  sitting  side  by  side  in  the  carriage  ;  the  little  box  lying  opposite 
us  on  the  other  seat.  Of  this  I  had  never  spoken  to  her,  nor  did  I 
now  think  of  speaking,  though  it  lay  there  before  our  eyes ;  and 
both  of  us,  by  tacit  agreement,  took  charge  of  it,  as  circumstances 
might  require  ;  I,  however,  .still  cariying  it  to  and  from  the  carriage, 
and  busying  myself,  as  formerly,  with  the  locking  of  the  doors. 

"  So  long  as  aught  remained  in  my  purse,  I  had  continued  to  pay  : 
but  when  my  cash  went  done,  I  signified  the  fact  to  her.  '  That  is 
easily  helped,'  said  she,  pointing  to  a  couple  of  little  pouches  fixed 
at  the  top,  to  the  sides  of  the  carriage.  These  I  had  often  observed 
before,  but  never  turned  to  nse.  She  put  her  hand  into  the  one,  and 
pulled  out  some  gold  pieces,  as  from  the  other  some  coins  of  silver  ; 
thereby  showing  me  the  possibility  of  meeting  any  scale  of  expendi- 
ture, which  we  might  choose  to  adopt.     And  thus  we  journeyed  on 


CHAPTER  XVIT.  556 

from  town  to  town,  from  land  to  land  ;  contented  with  each  other 
and  with  the  world  ;  and  I  fancied  not  tliut  she  would  again  leave 
me  ;  the  less  so,  that  for  some  time  she  had  evidently  been  as  loving 
wives  wish  to  be,  a  circunistauce  by  which  our  happiness  and  mu- 
tual affection  was  increased  still  farther.  But  one  morning,  alas, 
she  could  not  be  found  :  and  as  my  actual  residence,  without  her 
company,  "became  displeasing,  I  again  took  the  road  with  my  box  ; 
tried  the  virtue  of  the  two  pouches,  and  found  it  still  unimpaired. 

"  My  journey  proceeded  without  accident.  But  if  I  had  hitherto 
paid  little  heed  to  the  mysteries  of  my  adventure,  expecting  a  natural 
solution  of  th?!  Avhole,  there  now  occurred  something  which  threw 
me  into  astonishment,  into  anxiety,  nay,  into  fear.  Being  wont,  in 
my  impatience  for  change  of  place,  to  hurry  forward  day  and  night, 
it  was  often  my  hap  to  be  traveling  in  the  dariv  :  and  when  the 
lamps,  by  any  chance,  weut  out,  to  be  left  in  utter  obscurity.  Once 
in  the  dead  of  such  a  night,  I  had  fallen  asleep  ;  and  on  awakening 
I  observed  the  glimmer  of  a  light  on  the  covering  of  my  carriage.  I 
examined  this  more  strictly,  and  found  that  it  was  issuing  from  the 
box  ;  in  which  there  seemed  to  be  a  chinlc,  as  if  it  had  been  chapped 
by  tbe  warm  and  dry  weather  of  summer,  which  was  now  come  on. 
^ly  thoughts  of  jewels  again  came  into  my  head  ;  I  supposed  there 
must  be  some  carbuncle  lying  in  the  box,  and  this  point  I  forthwith 
set  about  investigating.  I  postured  myself  as  well  as  might  be,  so 
that  my  eye  was  in  immediate  contact  with  the  chink.  But  how 
great  was  my  surprise,  when  a  fair  apartment,  well  lighted,  and 
furnished  witli  muc-h  taste  and  even  costliness,  met  my  inspection, 
just  as  if  I  had  been  looking  down  through  the  opening  of  a  dome 
into  a  rAyal  saloon  !  A  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate  ;  and  before  it 
stood  an  arm-chair.  I  held  my  breath  and  continued  to  observe. 
And  now  there  entered  from  the  other  side  of  the  apartment  a  lady 
with  a  book  in  her  hand,  whom  I  at  once  recognized  for  my  wife, 
though  her  figure  was  contracted  into  the  extreme  of  diminution. 
She  sat  down  in  the  chair  by  the  fire  to  read  ;  she  trimmed  the  coals 
with  the  most  dainty  pair  of  tongs  ;  and  in  the  course  of  her  move- 
ments, I  could  clearly  perceive  that  this  fairest  little  creature  was 
also  in  the  family  Avay.  But  now  I  was  obliged  to  shift  my  con- 
strained posture  a  little  ;  and  the  next  moment,  when  1  bent  down  to 
look  in  again,  and  convince  myself  that  it  was  no  dream,  the  light 
had  vanished,  and  my  eye  rested  on  empty  darkness. 

"How  amazed,  nay,  terrified  I  was,  yoti  may  easily  conceive.  I 
started  a  thousand  thoughts  on  this  discover}',  and  in  truth  could 
think  nothing.  In  the  midst  of  this,  I  fell  asleep  ;  and  on  awakening, 
I  fancied  that  it  must  have  been  a  mere  dream  ;  yet  1  felt  myself  in 
some  degree  estranged  from  my  fair  one  ;  and  though  I  watched  over 
the  box  but  so  much  the  more  carefully,  I  knew  not  whether  the 
event  of  her  re-appearance  in  human  size  was  a  thing  which  I  should 
wish  or  dread. 


556  MEISTER' 8  TRAVELS. 

"After  some  time  she  did  in  fact  re-appear:  one  evening,  in  a 
white  robe,  she  came  gliding  in  ;  and  as  it  was  ju'St  then  growing 
duslty  in  my  room,  she  seemed  to  me  taller  than  when  I  had  seen  her 
last  ;  and  I  remembered  having  heai'd  that  all  beings  of  the  mermaid 
and  gnome  species  increased  in  stature  very  perceptibly  at  the  fall  of 
night.  She  flew,  as  usual,  to  my  arms  ;  but  I  could  not  with  right 
gladness  press  her  to  my  obstructed  breast. 

"  '  My  dearest,'  said  she,  '  I  now  feel  by  thy  reception  of  me,  what, 
alas,  I  already  knew  too  well.  Thou  hast  seen  me  in  the  interim  ; 
thou  art  acquainted  with  the  state  in  which,  at  certain  times,  I  find 
myself  ;  thy  happiness  and  mine  is  interrupted,  nay,  it  stands  on  the 
brink  of  being  annihilated  altogether.  I  must  leave  thee  ;  and  I 
know  not  whether  I  shall  ever  see  thee  again.'  Her  presence,  the 
grace  with  which  she  spoke,  directly  banished  from  my  memory 
almost  every  trace  of  that  vision,  which  indeed  had  already  liovered 
before  me  as  little  more  than  a  dream.  I  addressed  her  with  kind 
vivacity,  convinced  her  of  my  passion,  assured  her  that  I  was  inno- 
cent, that  my  discovery  was  accidental  ;  in  short,  I  so  managed  it  that 
she  appeared  composed,  and  endeavored  to  compose  me. 

"  'Try  thyself  strictly,'  said  she,  '  whether  this  discovery  has  not 
hurt  thy  love,  whether  thou  canst  forget  that  I  live  in  two  forms  be- 
side thee,  whether  the  diminution  of  my  being  will  not  also  contract 
thy  affection.' 

"I  looked  at  her  :  she  was  fairer  than  ever  ;  and  I  thought  within 
my.self  :  is  it  so  great  a  misfortune,  after  all,  to  have  a  wife  who 
from  time  to  time  becomes  a  dwarf,  so  that  one  can  carry  her  about 
with  him  in  a  casket?  Were  it  not  much  worse  if  she  became  a 
giantess,  and  put  her  husband  in  the  box?  My  gayety  of  heart  had 
returned.  I  would  not  for  the  whole  world  have  let  her  go.  '  Best 
heart,'  said  I, '  let  us  be  and  continue  ever  as  we  have  been.  Could 
either  of  us  wish  to  be  better?  Enjoy  thy  couveniency  ;  and  I 
promise  thee  to  guard  the  box  with  so  much  the  more  faithfulness. 
Why  should  the  prettiest  sight  I  have  ever  seen  in  my  life  make  a 
bad  impression  on  me?  How  happy  would  lovers  be,  could  they 
but  procure  such  miniature  pictures  !  And  after  all,  it  was  but  a 
picture,  a  little  sleight-of-hand  deception.  Thou  art  trying  and  teas- 
ing me  ;  but  thou  shalt  see  how  I  will  stand  it.' 

"  '  The  matter  is  more  serious  than  thou  thinkest,'  said  the  fair  one  ; 
'  however,  I  am  truly  glad  to  see  thee  take  it  so  lightly  ;  for  much 
good  may  still  be  awaiting  iis  both.  I  will  trust  in  thee  ;  and  for  my 
own  part,  do  my  utmost ;  only  promise  me  that  thou  wilt  never  men- 
tion this  discovery  by  Avay  of  reproach.  Another  prayer  likewise  I 
most  earnestly  make  to  thee  :  be  more  than  ever  on  thy  guard  against 
wine  and  anger.' 

"  I  promised  what  she  required  ;  I  could  have  gone  on  promising  to 
all  lengths,  but  she  herself  turned  aside  the  conversation  ;  and  thence- 
forth all  proceeded  in  its  former  routine.     We  had  no  inducement  to 


CHAPTER  XVII.  557 

alter  our  place  of  residence  ;  the  town  was  large,  the  society  various, 
and  the  fine  season  gave  rise  to  many  an  excursion  and  garden  fes- 
tival. 

"In  all  such  amusements  the  presence  of  my  wife  was  welcome, 
nay,  eagerly  desired,  by  women  as  well  as  men.  A  kind,  insinuating 
manner,  joined  with  a  certain  dignity  of  bearing,  secured  to  heron  all 
hands  praise  and  estimation.  Besides,  she  could  play  beautifully  on 
the  lute,  accompanying  it  with  her  voice  ;  and  no  social  night  could 
be  perfect,  unless  crowned  by  the  graces  of  this  talent. 

"  r  will  be  free  to  confess  that  I  have  never  got  much  good  of  music  ; 
on  the  contrary,  it  has  always  rather  had  a  disagreeable  effect  on  me. 
My  fair  one  soon  noticed  this,  and  accordingly,  when  by  ourselves, 
she  never  tried  to  entertain  me  by  such  means  ;  in  return,  however, 
she  appeared  to  indemnify  herself  while  in  society,  where  indeed  she 
always  found  a  crowd  of  admirers. 

"  And  now,  why  should  I  deny  it,  our  late  dialogue,  in  spite  of  my 
best  intentions,  had  by  no  means  sufficed  to  abolish  the  matter  within 
me  ;  on  the  contrary,  my  temper  of  mind  had  by  degrees  got  into  the 
strangest  tune,  almost  without  my  being  conscious  of  it.  One  night, 
in  a  large  company,  this  hidden  grudge  broke  loose,  and  by  its  conse- 
quences, produced  to  myself  the  greatest  damage. 

"  When  I  look  back  on  it  now,  I  in  fact  loved  my  beauty  far  less 
after  that  unlucky  discovery  ;  I  was  also  growing  jealous  of  her  ;  a 
whim  that  had  never  struck  me  before.  This  night  at  table,  I  found 
myself  placed,  very  much  to  my  mind,  beside  my  two  neighbors,  a 
couple  of  ladies,  who,  for  some  time,  had  appeared  to  me  very  charm- 
ing. Amid  jesting  and  soft  small  talk,  I  was  not  sparing  of  my  wine  ; 
while,  on  the  other  side,  a  pair  of  musical  dilettanti  had  got  hold  of 
my  wife,  and  at  last  contrived  to  lead  the  company  into  singing  sepa- 
rately, and  by  way  of  chorus.  This  put  me  into  ill-humor.  The  two 
amateurs  appeared  to  me  impertinent  ;  the  singing  vexed  me  ;  and 
when,  as  my  turn  came,  they  even  requested  a  solo-strophe  from  me, 
I  grew  truly  indignant,  I  emptied  my  glass,  and  set  it  down  again 
with  no  soft  niovement. 

"The  grace  of  my  two  fair  neighbors  soon  pacified  me,  indeed; 
but  there  is  an  evil  nature  in  wrath,  when  once  it  is  set  a-going.  It 
went  on  fermenting  within  me,  though  all  things  were  of  a  kind  to 
induce  joy  and  complaisance.  On  the  contrary,  I  waxed  more  splenetic 
than  ever  when  a  lute  was  produced,  and  my  fair  one  began  fingering 
it  and  singing,  to  the  admiration  of  all  the  rest.  Unhappily,  a  general 
silence  was  requested.  So  then,  I  was  not  even  to  talk  any  more  ; 
and  these  tones  were  going  through  me  like  a  toothache.  Was  it  any 
wonder  that,  at  last,  the  smallest  spark  should  blow  up  the  mine  ? 

"  The  songstress  had  just  ended  a  song  amid  the  loudest  applauses, 
when  she  looked  over  to  me  ;  and  this  truly  with  the  most  loving  face 
in  the  world.  Unluckily,  its  lovingness  could  not  penetrate  so  far. 
She  perceived  that  I  had  just  gulped  down  a  cup  of  wine,  and  was 


^ns  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

pouring  out  a  fresh  one.  With  her  right  forefinger  she  beckoned  to 
lue  in  kind  threatening.  '  Consider  that  it  is  wine  ! '  said  she,  not 
louder  than  for  myself  to  hear  it. — '  Water  is  for  mermaids  ! '  cried 
1. — '  My  ladies,'  said  she  to  my  neighbors,  '  crown  the  cup  with  all 
your  gracefulness,  that  it  be  not  too  often  emptied.' — '  You  will  not 
"let  yourself  be  tutored  ?'  whispered  one  of  them  in  my  ear. — '  What 
ails' the  dwarf  ? '  cried  I,  with  a  more  violent  gesture,  in  which  I  over- 
set the  glass. — 'Ah,  what  you  have  spilt  !' cried  the  paragon  of 
women  ;  at  the  same  time  twanging  her  strings,  as  if  to  lead  back 
the  attention  of  the  company  from  this  disturbance  to  herself.  Her 
attempt  succeeded  ;  the  more  completely  as  she  rose  to  her  feet,  seem- 
ingly that  she  might  play  with  greater  convenience,  and  in  this  atti- 
tude continued  preluding. 

"  At  .sight  of  the  red  wine  running  over  the  table-cloth,  I  returned 
to  myself.  I  perceived  the  great  fault  1  had  been  guilty  of  ;  and  it 
(uit  mc  through  the  very  heart.  Never  till  now  had  music  spoken  to 
me  :  the  first  verse  she  sang  was  a  friendly  good-night  to  the  com- 
pany, here  as  they  were,  as  they  might  still  feel  themselves  together. 
With  the  next  verse  they  became  as  if  scattered  asunder  ;  each  felt 
himself  solitary,  separated,  no  one  could  fancy  that  he  was  present 
any  longer.  But  what  shall  I  say  of  the  last  verse  ?  It  was  directed 
to  me  alone  ;  the  voice  of  injured  love  bidding  farewell  to  moroseness 
and  caprice. 

"  In  silence  I  conducted  her  home  ;  foreboding  no  good.  Scarcely, 
however,  had  we  reached  our  chamber,  when  .she  began  to  show  her- 
.self  exceedingly  kind  and  graceful,  nay,  even  roguish  ;  she  made  me 
the  happie.st  of  all  men. 

"  Next  morning,  in  high  spirits  and  full  of  love,  I  said  to  her  : 
'  Thou  hast  so  often  sung,  when  asked  in  company  ;  as,  for  example, 
thy  touching  farewell  song  last  night.  Come  now,  for  my  sake,  and 
sing  me  a  dainty  gay  welcome  to  this  morning  hour,  that  we  ma}- 
f eel  as  if  we  were  meeting  for  the  first  time.' 

"  'That  I  may  not  do,  my  friend,'  said  she,  seriously.  'The  song 
of  last  night  referred  to  our  parting,  which  must  now  forthwith  take 
place  ;  for  I  can  only  tell  thee,  the  violation  of  thy  promise  and  oath 
will  have  the  worst  consequences  for  ns  both  ;  thou  hast  scoffed  away 
a  great  felicity,  and  I  too  must  renounce  my  dearest  wishes.' 

"As  I  now  pressed  and  entreated  her  to  explain  herself  more 
clearly,  she  answered  :  'That,  alas,  I  can  well  do  ;  for,  at  all.events, 
my  continuance  with  thee  is  over.  Hear,  then,  what  I  would  rather 
have  concealed  to  the  latest  times.  The  form,  under  which  thou 
sawest  me  in  the  box,  is  my  natural  and  proper  form  ;  for  I  am  of  the 
race  of  King  Eckwald,  the  dread  sovereign  of  the  dwarfs,  concerning 
whom  authentic  history  has  recorded  so  much.  Our  people  are  still 
as  of  old  laborious  and  busy,  and  therefore  easy  to  govern.  "  Thou 
must  not  fancy  that  the  d\V'arfs  are  behindhand  in  their  manufactur- 
ing skill,     y words  which  followed  the  foe,  when  you  cast  them  after 


CHAPTER  XVIL  559 

him  •,  invisible  aud  mysteriously  binding  chains  ;  impenetrable 
shiells,  and  suchlike  ware  in  old  times,  formed  their  staple  produce. 
But  now  they  chiefly  employ  themselves  with  articles  of  convenience 
and  crnameut  ;  in  which  truly  tliey  surpass  all  people  of  the  eartli. 
I  may  well  say,  it  would  astonish  thee  to  walk  through  our  work- 
shops and  warehouses.  All  this  would  be  right  and  good,  were  it 
not  that  with  the  whole  nation  in  general,  but  more  particularly  with 
the  royal  family,  there  is  one  particular  circumstance  connected.' 

"  She  paused  for  a  moment  ;  and  I  again  begged  farther  ligUt  on 
these  wonderful  secrets  ;  which  accordingly  she  forthwitli  proceeded 
to  grant. 

"  '  It  is  well  known,'  said  she,  '  that  God,  so  soon  as  he  had  created 
the  world,  and  the  ground  was  dry,  and  the  mountains  were  standing 
bright  and  glorious,  that  God,  I  say,  thereupon,  in  the  very  first  place, 
created  the  dwarf.s  ;  to  the  end  that  there  nught  be  reasonable  beings 
also,  who,  in  their  passages  and  chasms,  might  contemplate  and 
adore  his  wonders  in  the  inward  parts  of  the  earth.  It  is  farther  well 
known,  that  this  little  race  by  degrees  became  uplifted  in  heart,  and 
attempted  to  acquire  the  dominion  of  the  eartli  ;  for  which  reason 
God  then  created  the  dragons,  in  order  to  drive  back  the  dwarfs  into 
their  mountains.  Now,  as  the  dragons  themselves  were  wont  to 
nestle  in  the  large  caverns  pud  clefts,  and  dwell  there  ;  and  many  of 
them,  too,  were  in  the  habit  of  spitting  fire,  and  working  much 
other  mischief,  the  poor  little  dwarfs  were  by  this  means  thrown  into 
exceeding  straits  and  distress,  'So  that  not  knowing  what  in  the  world  to 
do,  they  humbly  and  fervently  turned  to  God,  and  called  to  him  in  j 
prayer,  that  he  would  vouchsafe  to  abolish  this  unclean  dragon  genera- j 
tion.  But  though  it  consisted  not  with  his  wisdom  to  destroy  his 
own  creatures,  yet  the  heavy  sufferings  of  the  poor  dwarfs  so  moved  ■ 
his  compassion,  that  anon  he  created  the,  giants,  ordering  them  to  fight 
these  dragons,  and  if  not  root  them  out,  at  least  lessen  their  numbers,  i 

"'Now,  no  sooner  had  the  giants  got  moderately  well  through 
with  the  dragons,  than  their  hearts  also  began  to  wax  wanton  ;  and,, 
in  their  presumption,  they  practiced  much  tyranny,  especially  on  the 
good  little  dwarfs,  who  then  once  more  in  their  need  turned  to  the 
Lord  ;  and  he,  by  the  power  of  his  hand,  created  the  knights,  who 
were  to  make  war  on  the  giants  and  dragons,  and  to  live  in  concord 
with  the  dwarfs.  Hereby  was  the  work  of  creation  completed  on 
this  side  :  and  it  is  plain,  that  henceforth  giants  and  dragons,  as  well 
as  knights  and  dwarfs,  have  always  maintained  themselves  in  being. 
From  this,  my  friend,  it  will  be  clear  to  thee,  that  we  are  of  the  oldest 
race  on  the  eartli  ;  a  circumstance  which  does  us  honor,  but,  at  the 
same  time,  brings  great  disadvantage  along  with  it. 

"  'For  as  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  that  can  endure  forever, 
but  all  thalhas  once  been  great,  must  become  little  and  fade,  it  is 
our  lot  also,  that  ever  since  the  creation  of  the  world  we  have  been 
waning  and  growing  smaller  :  e.specially  the  royal  family,  on  whom, 


660  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

by  reason  of  tlieir  pure  blood,  this  destiny  presses  with  the  heaviest 
force.  To  remedy  this  evil,  our  wise  teachers  have  many  years  ago 
devised  the  expedient  of  sending  forth  a  princess  of  the  royal  liouse 
from  time  to  time  into  the  world,  to  wed  some  honorable  knight, 
that  so  the  dwarf  progeny  may  be  refected,  and  saved  from  efutire 
decay.' 

"  Though  my  fair  one  related  these  things  with  an  air  of  the 
utmost  sincerity,  I  looked  at  her  hesitatingly  ;  for  it  seemed  as  if  she 
meant  to  palm  some  fable  on  me.  As  to  her  own  dainty  lineage,  I 
had  not  the  smallest  doubt ;  but  that  she  should  have  laid  hold  of  me 
in  place  of  a  knight,  occasioned  some  mistrust ;  seeing  I  knew  myself 
too  well  to  suppose  that  my  ancestors  had  come  into  the  world  by  an 
immediate  act  of  creation. 

"  I  concealed  my  wonder  and  skepticism,  and  asked  her  kindly  : 
'  But  tell  me,  my  dear  child,  how  hast  thou  attained  this  large  and 
stately  shape  ?  For  I  know  few  women  that  in  richness  of  form  can 
compare  with  thee' — '  Thou  slialt  hear,'  replied  she.  '  It  is  a  settled 
maxim  in  the  council  of  the  dwarf  kings,  that  this  extraordinary  step 
be  forborne  as  long  as  it  possibly  can  ;  which,  indeed,  I  cannot  but 
say  is  quite  natural  and  proper.  Perhaps  they  might  have  lingered 
still  longer,  had  not  my  brother,  born  after  me,  come  into  the  world 
so  exceedingly  small,  that  the  nurses  actually  lost  him  out  of  his 
swaddling-clothes,  and  no  creature  yet  knows  whither»he  is  gone. 
On  this  occurrence,  unexampled  in  the  annals  of  dwarfdom,  the  sages 
were  assembled  ;  and  without  more  ado,  the  resolution  was  taken, 
and  I  sent  out  in  quest  of  a  husband.' 

"  '  The  resolution  ! '  exclaimed  I  :  '  that  is  all  extremely  well.  One 
can  resolve,  one  can  take  his  resolution  ;  but  to  give  a  dwarf  this 
heavenly  shape,  how  did  your  sages  manage  that  ?' 

"  '  It  had  been  provided"  for  already,"  said  she,  '  by  our  ancestors. 
In  the  royal  treasury  lay  a  monstrous  gold  ring.  I  speak  of  it  as  it 
then  appeared  to  me,  when  I  saw  it  in  my  childhood  ;  for  it  was  this 
same  ring,  which  I  have  here  on  my  finger.  We  now  went  to  work 
as  follows  : 

"  '  r  was  informed  of  all  that  awaited  me  ;  and  instructed  what  I 
had  to  do  and  to  forbear.  A  splendid  palace,  after  the  pattern  of  my 
father's  favorite  summer-residence,  was  then  got  ready :  a  main  edifice, 
wings,  and  whatever  else  you  could  think  of.  It  stood  at  the  entrance 
of  a  large  rock-cleft,  which  it  decorated  in  the  handsomest  style.  On 
the  appointed  day,  our  court  moved  thither,  my  parents  also  and  my- 
self. The  army  paraded  ;  and  four-and-twenty  priests,  not  without 
difficulty,  carried  on  a  costly  litter  the  mysterious  ring.  It  was  placed 
on  the  threshold  of  the  building,  just 'within  the  spot  where  you 
entered.  Many  ceremonies  were  observed  ;  and  after  a  pathetic  fare- 
well, I  proceeded  to  my  task.  I  stepped  forward  to  the  ring  ;  laid 
my  finger  on  it  ;  and  tliat  instant  began  perceptibly  to  wax  in  stature. 
In  a  few  moments  I  had  reached  my  present  size  ;  and  then  I  put  the 


CHAPTER  XVII.  561 

ring  ou  my  finger.  But  now,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  tlie  doors, 
windows,  gates  flapped  to  ;  the  wings  drew  up  iuto  the  body  of  the 
_ edifice  ;  instead  of  a  palace,  stood  a  little  box  beside  me  ;  which  I 
forthwith  lifted  and  carried  off  with  me  ;  not  without  a  pleasant 
feeling  in  being  so  tall  and  strong  ;  still,  indeed,  a  dwarf  to  trees 
and  mountains,  to  streams  and  tracts  of  laud  ;  yet  a  giant  to  grass 
and  herbs  ;  and  above  all  to  ants,  from 'whom  we  dwarfs,  not  being 
always  on  the  best  terms  with  them,  often  suffer  considerable  annoy- 
ance. 

"  '  How  it  fared  with  me  on  my  pilgrimage,  I  might  tell  thee  at 
great  length.  Suffice  it  to  say  I  tried  many  ;  but  no  one  save  thou 
seemed  worthy  of  being  honored  to  renovate  and  perpetuate  the  line 
of  the  glorious  Eckwald.' 

"In  the  coarse  of  these  narrations,  my  head  had  now  and  then 
kept  wagging,  without  myself  having  absolutely  shaken  it.  I  put 
several  questions  ;  to  which  I  received  no  very  satisfactory  answers  ; 
on  the  contrary,  I  learned  to  my  great  affliction,  that  after  what  had 
happened,  she  must  needs  return  to  her  parents.  She  had  hopes  still, 
she  said  of  getting  back  to  me  ;  but  for  the  present,  it  was  iudisjien- 
sably  necessary  to  present  herself  at  court  ;  as  otherwise,  both  for 
her  and  for  mo,  there  was  nothing  but  utter  ruin.  The  purses  would 
soon  cease  to  pay  ;  and  who  knew  what  all  would  be  the  consequences  ? 

"  On  hearing  that  our  money  would  run  short,  I  inquired  no  farther 
into  consequences.  I  shrugged  my  shoulders  ;  I  was  silent,  and  she 
seemed  to  understand  me. 

"  We  now  packed  up,  and  got  into  our  carriage  ;  the  box  standing 
opposite  to  us  ;  in  which,  however,  I  could  still  see  no  symptoms  of 
a  palace.  In  this  way  we  proceeded  several  stages.  Post  money  and 
drink  money  were  readily  and  richly  paid  from  the  pouches  to  the 
right  and  left  ;  till  at  last  we  reached  a  mountainous  district  ;  and  no 
sooner  had  we  alighted  here,  than  my  fair  one  walked  forward,  direct- 
ing me  to  follow  her  with  the  box.  She  led  me  by  rather  steej^  paths 
to  a  narrow  plot  of  green  ground,  through  which  a  clear  brook  now 
gushed  in  little  falls,  now  ran  in  quiet  windings.  She  pointed  to  a 
little  knoll ;  bade  me  .set  the  box  down  there,  then  said  :  '  Farewell  ! 
Thou  wilt  easily  find  the  way  back  ;  remember  me ;  I  hope  to  see 
thee  again.' 

"  At  this  moment,  I  felt  as  if  I  could  not  leave  her.  She  was  just 
now  in  one  of  her  fine  days,  or  if  you  will,  her  fine  hours.  Alone 
with  so  fair  a  being,  on  the  greensward,  among  grass  and  flowers, 
girt  in  by  rocks,  waters  murmuring  round  you,  what  heart  could  have 
remained  insensible  !  I  came  forward  to  seize  her  hand,  to  clasp  her 
in  my  arms  ;  but  she  motioned  me  back  ;  threatening  me,  though 
still  kindly  enough,  with  great  danger,  if  I  did  not  instantly  with- 
draw. 

"  '  Is  there  no  possibility,  then,'  exclaimed  I,  '  of  my  staying  with 
thee,  of  thy  keeping  me  beside  thee  ? '     These  words  'l  uttered  with 


562  MEISTER' 8  TRAVELS. 

such  rueful  tones  and  gestures,  tLat  she  seemed  touched  by  them, 
and  after  some  thought  confessed  to  me  that  a  continuance  of  our 
union  was  not  entirely  impossible.  Wlio  happier  than  I  !  My  impor- 
tunity, which  increased  every  moment,  compelled  her  at  last  to  come 
out  with  lier  scheme,  and  inform  me  that  if  I  too  could  resolve  on 
becoming  as  little  as  I  had  once  seen  her,  I  might  still  remain  with 
her,  be  admitted  to  her  house,  her  kingdom,  her  family.  The  propo- 
sal was  not  altogether  to  my  mind  ;  yet  at  this  moment  I  positively 
could  not  tear  myself  away  ;  so,  having  already  for  a  good  while 
been  accustomed  to  the  marvelous,  and  being  at  all  times  prone  to 
bold  enterprises,  1  closed  with  her  offer,  and  said  she  might  do  with 
me  as  she  pleased. 

"  I  was  thereupon  directed  to  hold  out  the  little  finger  of  my  right 
hand  ;  she  placed  her  own  against  it ;  then  with  her  left  hand  she 
quite  softly  pulled  the  ring  from  her  finger,  and  let  it  run  along  mine. 
That  instant,  I  felt  a  violent  twinge  on  my  finger  ;  the  ring  shrunk 
together,  and  tortured  me  horribly.  I  gave  a  loud  cry,  and  caught 
round  me  for  my  fair  one,  but  she  had  disappeared.  What  state  of 
mind  I  was  in  during  this  moment,  I  find  no  words  to  express  ;  so  I 
have  nothing  more  to  say,  but  that  I  very  soon,  in  my  miniature  size, 
found  myself  beside  my  fair  one  in  a  wood  of  grass  stalks.  The  joy 
of  meeting  after  this  short  yet  most  strange  separation,  or,  if  you 
will,  of  this  reunion  without  separation,  exceeds  all  conception.  I 
fell  on  her  neck  ;  she  replied  to  my  caresses,  and  the  little  pair  was 
as  happy  as  the  large  one. 

"With  some  difficulty,  we  now  mounted  a  hill:  t  say  difficulty, 
because  the  sward  had  become  for  us  an  almost  impenetrable  forest. 
Yet  at  length  Ave  reached  a  bare  space  ;  and  how  surprised  was  I  at 
perceiving  there  a  large  bolted  mass  ;  which,  ere  long,  I  could  not 
but  recognize  for  the  box,  in  the  same  state  as  when  I  had  set  it 
down. 

"  'Go  up  to  it,  my  friend,'  said  she,  '  and  do  but  knock  with  the 
ring  ;  thou  shalt  see  wonders.'  I  went  up  accordingly,  and  no  sooner 
had  I  rapped,  than  I  did,  in  fact,  witness  the  greatest  wonder.  Two 
wings  came  jutting  out  ;  and  at  the  same  time  there  fell,  like  scales 
and  chips,  various  pieces  this  way  and  that  ;  while  doors,  windows, 
colonnades,  and  all  that  belongs  to  a  complete  palace  at  once  came 
into  view. 

"  If  ever  you  have  seen  one  of  Riintchen's  desks  ;  how,  at  one  pull, 
a  multitude  of  springs  and  latches  get  in  motion,  and  writing  board 
and  writing  materials,  letter  and  money  compartments,  all  at  once, 
or  in  quick  succession,  start  forward,  you  will  partly  conceive  how 
this  palace  unfolded  itself,  into  which  my  sweet  attendant  now  intro- 
duced me.  In  the  large  saloon,  I  directly  recognized  the  fireplace 
which  I  had  formerly  seen  from  above,  and  the  chair  in  which  she  had 
then  been  sitting.  And  on  looking  \ip,  I  act\ially  fancied  1  could  still 
see  something  of  the  cliink  in  the  dome,  through  which  I  had  peeped 


CHAPTER  XVTI.  563 

iu.  I  spare  you  the  description  of  the  rest :  iu  a  word,  all  was  spa- 
cious, splendid  and  tasteful.  Scarcely  had  I  recovered  from  my  aston- 
ishment, when  I  heard  afar  off  a  sound  of  military  music.  My  better 
half  sprang  up  ;  and  with  rapture  announced  to  me  the  approach  of 
his  majesty  her  father.  We  stepped  out  to  the  threshold,  and  here 
beheld  a  magnificent  procession  moving  towards  us,  from  a  consider- 
able cleft  in  the  rock.  Soldiers,  servants,  officers  of  state  and  glitter- 
ing courtiers,  followed  in  order.  At  last  you  observed  a  golden  throng, 
and  iu  the  midst  of  it  the  king  himself.  So  soon  as  the  whole  pro- 
cession had  drawn  up  before  the  palace,  the  king,  with  his  nearest 
retinue,  stepped  forward.  His  loving  daughter  hastened  out  to  meet 
him,  pulling  me  along  with  her.  We  threw  ourselves  at  his  feet ; 
he  raised  me  very  graciously  ;  and  on  coming  to  stand  before  him,  I 
perceived,  that  in  this  little  world  I  was  still  the  most  considerable 
figure.  We  proceeded  together  to  the  palace,  where  his  majesty,  in 
presence  of  his  whole  court,  was  pleased  to  welcome  me  with  a  well- 
studied  oration,  iu  which  he  expressed  his  surprise  at  finding  us  here, 
acknowledged  me  as  his  son-in-law,  and  appointed  the  nuptial  cere- 
mony to  take  place  on  the  morrow. 

"  A  cold  sweat  went  over  me  as  I  h(>ai\l  him  speak  of  marriage  ; 
for  I  dreaded  this  even  more  than  musie,  which  otherwise  appeared 
to  me  the  most  hateful  thing  on  earth.  Your  uuisic-makers,  I  used 
to  say,  enjoy  at  least  the  conceit  of  being  in  unison  with  each  other, 
and  working  iu  concord  ;  for  when  they  have  tweaked  and  tuned 
long  enough,  grating  our  ears  with  all  manner  of  screeches,  they  be- 
lieve in  their  hearts  that  the  matter  is  now  adjusted,  and  one  instru- 
ment accurately  suited  to  the  other.  The  band-master  himself  is  in 
this  happy  delusion  ;  and  so  they  set  forth  joyfully,  though  still  tear- 
ing our  nerves  to  pieces.  In  the  marriage -state,  even  this  is  not  the 
case  ;  for  although  it  is  but  a  duet,  and  jou  might  think  two  voices, 
or  even  two  instruments,  might  in  some  degree  be  attuned  to  each 
other,  yet  this  happens  very  seldom  ;  for  while  the  man  gives  out 
one  tone,  the  wife  directly  takes  a  higher  one,  and  the  man  again  a 
higher  ;  and  so  it  rises  from  the  chamber  to  the  choral  pitch,  and 
farther  and  farther,  till  at  last  wind-instruments  themselves  cannot 
reach  it.  And  now,  as  harmonical  music  itself  is  an  offense  to  me, 
it  will  not  be  surprising  that  disharmonical  should  be  a  thing  Which 
I  cannot  endure. 

"  Of  the  festivities  in  which  the  day  was  spent,  I  shall  and  can  say 
nothing  ;  for  I  paid  small  heed  to  any  of  them.  The  sumptuous 
victuals,  tlie  generous  wine,  the  royal  amusements,  I  could  not  relish. 
I  kept  thinking  and  considering  what  I  was  to  do.  Here,  however, 
there  was  but  little  to  be  considered.  I  determined,  once  for  all,  to 
take  myself  away,  and  hide  somewhere.  Accordingly,  I  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  chink  of  a  stone,  where  I  intrenched  and  concealed  my- 
self as  well  as  might  be.  My  first  care  after  this  was  to  get  the  un- 
happy ring  off  my  finger  ;  an  enterprise,  however,  which  would  by 


564  ME18TER' 8  TRAVELS. 

no  means  prosper,  for,  on  the  contrary,  I  felt  that  every  pull  I  gave, 
the  metal  grew  straUer  and  cramped  me  with  violent  pains,  which 
again  abated  so  soon  as  I  desisted  from  my  purpose. 

"  Early  in  the  morning  I  awoke  (for  my  little  person  had  slept,  and 
very  soundly)  ;  and  was  just  stepping  out  to  look  farther  about  me, 
when  I  felt  a  kind  of  rain  coming  on,  Through  the  grass,  flowers 
and  leaves,  there  fell  as  it  were  something  like  sand  and  grit  in  large 
quantities ;  but  what  was  my  horror  when  the  whole  of  it  became 
alive,  and  an  innumerable  host  of  ants  rushed  down  on  me  !  No 
sooner  did  they  observe  me,  than  they  made  an  attack  on  all  sides  ; 
and  though  I  defended  myself  stoutly  and  gallantly  enough,  they  at 
last  so  hemmed  me  in,  so  nipped  and  pinched  me,  that  I  was  glad  to 
hear  them  calling  to  surrender.  I  surrendered  instantly  and  wholly  ; 
■whereupon  an  ant  of  respectable  stature  approached  me  with  courtesy, 
nay,  witli  reverence,  and  even  recommended  itself  to  my  good  graces. 
I  learned  that  the  ants  had  now  become  allies  of  my  father-in-law, 
and  by  him  been  called  out  in  the  present  emergency,  and  commis- 
sioned to  fetch  me  back.  Here,  then,  was  little  I  in  the  hands  of 
creatures  still  less.  I  had  nothing  for  it  but  looking  forward  to  the 
marriage;  nay,  I  must  now  thank  Heaven,  if  my  father-in-law  were 
not  wroth,  if  my  fair  one  had  not  taken  the  sullens. 

"  Let  me  skip  over  the  whole  train  of  ceremonies  :  in  a  word,  we 
were  wedded.  Gayly  and  joyously  as  matters  went,  there  were  never- 
theless solitary  hours,  in  which  you  were  led  astray  into  reflection  ; 
and  now  there  happened  to  me  something  which  had  never  happened 
before  :  what,  and  how,  you  shall  learn. 

"  Everything  about  me  was  completely  adapted  to  my  present  form 
and  wants  ;  the  bottles  and  glasses  were  in  a  fit  ratio  to  a  little  toper, 
nay,  if  you  will,  better  measure,  in  proportion,  than  with  us.  In  my 
tiny  palate,  the  dainty  titbits  tasted  excellently  ;  a  kiss  from  the  little 
mouth  of  my  spouse  was  still  the  most  charming  thing  in  nature  ; 
and  1  will  not  deny  that  novelty  made  all  these  circumstances  highly 
agreeable.  Unhappily,  however,  I  liad  not  forgotten  my  former 
situation.  I  felt  within  me  a  scale  of  bygone  greatness  ;  and  it 
rendered  me  restless  and  cheerless.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  did  I 
understand  what  the  philosophers  might  mean  by  their  ideal,  which 
they  say  so  plagues  the  mind  of  man.  I  had  an  ideal  of  myself  ;  and 
often  in  dreams  1  appeared  as  a  giant.  In  short,  my  wife,  my  ring, 
my  dwarf  figure,  and  so  many  otlier  bonds  and  restrictions,  made  me 
utterly  unhappy  ;  so  that  I  began  to  think  seriously  about  obtaining 
my  deliverance. 

"  Being  persuaded  that  the  whole  magic  lay  in  the  ring,  I  resolved 
on  filing  this  asunder.  From  the  court-jeweler,  accordingly,  I 
borrowed  some  files.  By  good  luck,  I  was  left-handed,  as  indeed, 
throughout  my  whole  life,  I  had  never  done  aught  in  the  right-handed 
way.  I  stood  tightly  to  the  worl:  :  it  was  not  small  ;  for  the  golden 
hoop,  so  thin  as  it  appeared,  had  grown  proportionably  thicker  in 


CHAPTER  XVIIL  '"lO:; 

contracting  from  its  former  length.  All  vacant  hours  I  privately  ap- 
plied to  this  task  ;  and  at  last,  the  metal  being  nearly  through,  1  was 
provident  enough  to  step  out  of  doors.  This  was  a  wise  measure  ; 
for  all  at  once  the  golden  hoop  started  sharply  from  my  finger,  and 
my  frame  shot  aloft  with  such  violence,  that  I  actually  fancied  I 
should  dash  against  the  sky  ;  and,  at  all  events,  I  must  have  bolted 
througli  the  dome  of  our  palace  ;  nay,  perhaps,  in  my  new  awkward- 
ness, liave  destroyed  this  suuimer-residence  altogether. 

"llere,  then,  was  I  standing  again  ;  in  truth,  so  much  the  larger, 
but  also,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  so  much  the  more  foolish  and  helpless. 
On  recovering  from  my  stupefaction,  I  observed  the  royal  strong-box 
l\ing  near  me,  which!  found  to  be  moderately  heavy,  as  I  lifted  it, 
and  carried  it  down  the  footpath  to  the  next  stage  ;  where  I  directly 
ordered  horses,  and  set  forth.  By  the  road,  J  soon  made  trial  of  -the 
two  side- pouches.  Instead  of  money,  which  appeared  to  be  run  out, 
I  found  a  little  key  :  it  belonged  to  the  strong-box,  in  which  I  got 
some  moderate  con'ipensation.  So  long  as  this  held  out,  I  made  use 
of  the  carriage  •  by  and  by  1  sold  it,  and  proceeded  by  the  diligence. 
The  strong-box  too  I  at  length  cast  from  me,  having  no  hope  of  its 
ever  filling  again.  And  thus  in  the  end,  tliough  after  a  considerable 
circuit,  I  again  returned  to  the  kitchen-hearth,  to  the  landlady  and 
the  cook,  where  you  were  first  introduced  to  me." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Leijardo  was  overwhelmed  with  business,  his  writing-office  in  the 
greatest  activity  ;  clerks  and  secretaries  finding  no  moment's  rest  ; 
while  Wilhelm  and  Friedrich,  strolling  over  field  and  meadow,  were 
entertaining  each  other  with  tlie  most  pleasant  conversation. 

And  here,  first  of  all,  as  necessarily  happens  between  friends  meet- 
ing after  some  separation,  the  question  was  started  :  Plow  far  they 
had  altered  in  the  interim  ?  Friedrich  would  have  it  that  Wilhelm 
was  exactly  the  same  as  before  :  to  Wilhelm  again  it  seemed  that 
his  young  friend,  though  no  whit  abated  in  mirth  and  discursive- 
ness, was  somewhat  more  staid  in  his  manner.  "  It  were  pity," 
interrupted  Friedrich,  "if  the  father  of  three  children,  the  husband 
of  an  exemplary  matron,  had  not  likewise  gained  a  little  in  dignity  of 
bearing." 

Now,  also,  it  came  to  light,  that  all  the  persons  whom  we  got  ac- 
quainted with  in  the  "  Apprenticeship  "  were  still  living  and  well;  nay, , 
better  than  before  ;  being  now  in  full  and  decisive  activity  ;  each,  in 
his  own  way,  associated  with  many  fellow-laborers,  and  striving  J;o- 
wards  the  noblest  aim.     Of  this,  however,  it  is  not  for  the  present 


r,6sj  MEIStER'S  TBAVELB. 

permitted  us  to  impart  any  more  precise  information  ;  as,  in  a  little 
book  like  ours,  reserve  and  secrecy  may  be  no  unseemly  qualities. 

But  whatever,  in  the  course  of  this  confidential  conversation,  trans- 
pired respecting  the  society  in  which  we  now  are,  as  their  more  inti- 
mate relations,  maxims  and  objects,  by  little  and  little,  came  to  view, 
it  is  our  duty  and  opportunity  to  disclose  in  this  place. 

"  The  whim  of  emigration,"  such  was  the  substance  of  Friedrich's 
talk  on  this  matter,  "  the  whim  of  emigration  may,  in  straitened  and 
painful  circumstances,  very  naturally  lay  hold  of  men  ;  if  particular 
cases  chance  to  be  favored  by  a  happy  issue,  this  whim  will,  in  the 
general  mind,  rise  to  the  rank  of  passion  ;  as  we  have  seen,  as  we 
still  see,  and  withal  cannot  deny  that  we,  in  our  time,  have  been 
befooled  by  such  a  delusion  ourselves. 

"  Emigration  takes  place  in  the  treacherous  hope  of  an  improve- 
ment in  our  circumstances  ;  and  it  is  too  often  counterbalanced  by  a 
subsequent  emigration  ;  since,  go  where  you  may,  you  still  find  your- 
self in  a  conditional  world,  and  if  not  constrained  to  a  new  emigra- 
tion, are  yet  inclined  in  secret  to  cherish  such  a  desire. 

"  We  have  therefore  bound  ourselves  to  renounce  all  emigration, 
and  to  devote  ourselves  to  migration.  Here  one  does  not  turn  his 
back  on  liis  native  country  forever  ;  but  hopes,  even  after  the  greatest 
circuit,  to  arrive  there  ugain,  richer,  wiser,  cleverer,  better,  and  what- 
ever else  such  a  way  of  life  can  make  him.  Now,  in  society,  all 
things  are  easier,  more  certain  in  their  accomplishment,  than  to  an 
individual  ;  in  which  sense,  my  friend,  consider  what  thou  shalt 
observe  here  ;  for  whatever  thou  mayest  see,  all  and  every  part  of  it 
is  meant  to  forward  a  great  movable  connection  among  active  and 
sufficient  men  of  all  classes. 

"  But  as  where  men  are,  manners  are  too,  I  may  explain  thus  much 
of  our  constitution  by  way  of  preliminary  :  When  two  of  our  number 
anywhere  by  accident  meet,  they  conduct  themselves  towards  each 
other  according  to  their  rank  and  fashion,  according  to  custom  of 
handicraft  or  art,  or  by  some  other  such  mode  adapted  to  their  mutual 
relations.  Three  meeting  together  are  considered  as' a  unity,  which 
governs  itself  ;  but  if  a  fourth  join  them,  they  instantly  elect  the 
Bond,  one  chief  and  three  subjects.  This  Bond,  however  many  more 
combine  with  them,  can  still  only  be  a  single  new-elected  person; 
for,  in  the  great  as  in  thd  small  scale,  coregents  are  found  to  be 
mutually  obstructive. 

"  Thou  mayest  observe  that  Lenardo  unites,  in  this  way,  more  than 
a  hundred  active  and  al)le  men  ;  unites,  employs,  calls  home,  sends 
forth  ;  as  to-morrow,  an  important  day  with  us,  thou  wilt  perceive 
and  understand.  Thou  wilt  then  see  the  Bond  dissolved  ;  the  multi- 
tude divided  into  smaller  societies,  and  the  Bond  multiplied  ;  all  the 
rest  will  at  the  same  time  become  clear  to  thee. 

"But,  for  the  present,  I  invite  thee  to  a  short  bout  of  reading. 
Here,  under  the  shadow  of  these  whispering  trees,  by  the  side  of  this 


CHAPTER  XIX.  567 

still  flowing  water,  let  us  peruse  a  story,  .this  little  paper,  -wliicli 
Lenardo,  from  the  rich  treasures  of  his  collection,  has  intrusted  to 
me  ;  tliat  so  both  of  us  may  see  thoroughly  what  a  difference  there  is 
between  a. mad  pilgrimage,  such  as  many  lead  in  the  world,  and  a 
well-meditated.7happily-commenced  undertaking  like  ours,  of  which 
I  shallat  this  time  say  no  more  in  praise." 

The  quaint,  fitful  and  most  dainty  story  of  "The  Foolish  _Pil- 
grimess,"  with  which  our  two  friends  now  occupied  their  morning, 
we  feel  ourselves  constrained,  not  unreluctantly,  by  certain  grave 
calculations,  to  reserve  for  some  future  and  better  season. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Lenardo  having  freed  himself  from  business  for  an  hour,  took 
dinner  with  his  friends  ;  and  at  table  he  began  to  explain  to  them  his 
family  circumstances.  His  elde.st  sister  was  married.  A  rich  brotlier- 
in-law,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  the  uncle,  had  undertaken  the  man- 
agement of  all  the  estates  ;  with  him  Valerina's  husband  w^as  stoutly 
co-operating  ;  they  were  laboring  on  the  great  scale  ;  strengthening 
their  enterprises  by  connection  with  distant  countries  and  places. 

Here  likewise  our  oldest  friends  once  more  malce  their  appearance  ; 
Lothario,  Werner,  the  abb6,  are  on  their  side  proceeding  in  the  high- 
est diligence,  while  Jarno  occupies  himself  with  mining.  A  general 
insurance  has  been  instituted  ;  we  discern  a  vast  property  in  land  ; 
and  on  this  depends  the  existence  of  a  large  wandering  society,  the 
individual  members  of  which,  uncier  the  condition  of  the  greatest 
possible  usefulness,  are  recommended  to  all  the  world,  are  forwarded 
in  every  undertaking,  and  secured  against  all  mischances  ;  while 
they  again,  as  scattered  colonists,  may  be  supposed  to  react  on  their 
mother  country  with  favorable  influences. 

Throughout  all  this  we  observe  Lenardo  recognized  as  the  wander- 
ing Bond  ;  in  smaller  and  greater  combinations,  he,  for  most  part,  is 
elected  :  on  him  is  placed  the  most  unrestricted  confidence. 

So  far  had  the  disclosure,  parth'  from  Lenardo,  partly  from  Fried- 
rich,  proceeded  without  let,  when  both  of  them  on  a  sudden  became 
silent,  each  seeming  to  have  scruples  about  communicating  more. 
After  a  short  pause,  Wilhelm  addressed  them,  and  cried:  "What 
new  secret  again  suddenly  overshadows  the  friendliest  explanation  ? 
Will  you  again  leave  me  in  the  lurch?  " 

"  Not  at  ail  !"  exclaimed  Friedrich.  "  Do  but  hear  me  !  He  has 
found  the  nut-brown  maid  ;  and  for  her  sake " 

"  Not  for  lier  sake,"  interrupted  Lenardo. 

"  And  just  for  her  sake  !"  persisted  Friedrich.     "  Do  not  deceive 


568  MEISTEB'S  TRAVELS. 

yourself  :  for  lier  sake  you  are  changing  yourself  into  a  lawful  vaga- 
bond ;  as  some  others  of  us,  not,  iu  truth,  for  the  most  praiseworthy 
purposes,  have  in  times  past  changed  ourselves  into  lawless  va- 
grants." 

"  Let  us  go  along  calmly,"  said  Lenardo.  "  Our  friend  here  must 
be  made  acquainted  with  the  state  of  our  affairs  ;  but,  in  the  first 
place,  let  hiui  liave  a  little  touch  of  discipline  for  himself.  You  had 
found  the  nut-brown  maid  ;  but  to  me  you  refused  the  knowledge  of 
her  abode.  For  this  I  will  not  blame  you  ;  but  what  good  did  it  do? 
To  discover  this  secret  I  was  passionately  incited  ;  and,  notwith- 
standing your  sagacious  caution,  I  at  length  came  upon  the  right 
trace.  You  have  seen  the  good  maiden  yourself  ;  her  circumstances 
you  have  accurately  investigated  ;  and  yet  you  did  not  judge  them 
rightly.  It  is  only  the  loving  who  feels  and  discovers  what  the 
beloved  wishes  and  wants  ;  he  can  read  it  in  her  from  her  deepest 
heart.  Let  this  at  present  suffice  ;  for  explanation  we  have  no  time 
left  to-day.  To-morrow  I  have  the  hottest  press  of  business  to  front : 
next  day  we  part.  But  for  your  information,  composure  and  partici- 
pating interest,  accept  this  copy  of  a  week  from  my  journal  :  it  is 
the  best  legacy  which  I  can  leave  you.  By  reading  it,  you  will  not 
indeed  become  wiser  than  vyou  are  and  than  I  am  ;  but  let  this  for 
the  present  suffice.  The  nearest  future,  or  a  more  remote  one,  will 
arrange  and  direct ;  that  is  to  say,  in  this  case,  as  in  so  many  others, 
we  know  not  what  is  to  become  of  us." 

By  way  of  dessert,  Lenardo  received  a  packet,  at  the  opening  of 
which  he,  with  some  tokens  of  surprise,  handed  a  letter  to  Wilhelm. 
"What  secrets,  what  speedy  concerns  can  sister  Hersilia  have  with 
our  friend?  '  To  be  delivered  instantly,  and  opened  privately,  with- 
out the  presence  of  any  one,  fdend  or  stranger  !  '  Let  us  give  him 
all  possible  convenience,  Friedrich  ;  let  us  withdraw  !^'  Wilhelm 
hastily  broke  open  the  sheet  and  road  : 

HERSILIA   TO   WILHELM. 

Wherever  this  letter  may  reach  you,  my  noble  friend,  to  a  certainty 
it  will  find  you  in  some  nook,  where  you  are  striving  in  vain  to  hide 
from  yourself.  By  nuiking  you  acquainted  with  my  two  fair  dames 
I  have  done  you  a  sorry  service. 

But  wherever  you  may  be  lurking,  and  doubtless  it  will  search  you 
out,  my  promise  is,  that  if,  after  reading  this  letter,  you  do  not  forth- 
witit  leap  from  your  seat,  and,  like  a  pious  pilgrim,  appear  in  my 
presence  without  delay,  I  must  declare  yoti  to  be  the  manliest  of  all 
men  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  one  most  completely  void  of  the  finest  prop- 
erty belonging  to  our  sex  ;  I  mean  curiosity,  which  at  this  moment  is 
afflicting  me  in  its  sharpest  concentration. 

In  one  word,  then,  your  casket  has  now  got  its  key  ;  this,  however, 
none  but  you  and  I  are  to  know.  How  it  came  into  my  hands,  let  me 
now  tell  you. 


CHAPTER  XIX.  569 

Some  days  ago,  our  man  of  law  gets  dispatclies  from  a  distant  tri- 
bunal ;  wlierein  lie  was  asked  if,  at  such  and  such  a  time,  there  had 
not  been  a  boy  prowling  about  our  neighborhood,  who  had  played  all 
manner  of  tricks,  and  at  length,  in  a  rasli  enterprise,  lost  his  jacket. 

By  the  way  this  brat  was  described,  no  doubt  remained  with  us  but 
he  was  Fitz  ;  the  gay  comrade  whom  Felix  talked  so  much  of,  and  so 
gften  wished  back  to  play  with  him. 

Now,  for  the  present,  those  authorities  request  that  said  article  of 
dress  may  be  sent  to  tliem,  if  it  is  still  in  existence  ;  as  the  boy,  at  last 
involved  in  judicial  examinations,  refers  to  it.  Of  this  demand  our 
lawyer  chances  to  make  mention  ;  lie  shows  us  the  little  frock  before 
sending  it  ofE. 

Some  good  or  evil  spirit  whispers  me  to  grope  the  breast-pocket  ;  a 
little  angular  prickly  something  comes  into  my  hand  ;  I,  so  timorous, 
ticklish  and  startlish  as  I  usually  am,  clench  my  hand,  clench  it,  hold 
my  peace,  and  the  jerkin  is  sent  away.  Directly,  of  all  feelings,  the 
strangest  seizes  me.  At  the  fir.st  stolen  glance,  1  saw,  I  guessed  tliat 
it  was  the  key  of  your  little  box.  And  now  came  wondrous  scruples 
of  conscience,  and  all  sorts  of  moral  doubts.  To  discover,  to  give  back 
my  windfall,  was  impossible  ;  what  have  those  long- wigged  judges  to 
do  with  it,  when  it  may  be  so  useful  to  my  friend  !  And  then,  again, 
all  manner  of  questions  about  right  and'duty  begin  lifting  up  their 
voices  ;  but  I  would  not  let  them  outvote  me. 

From  this  you  perceive  into  what  a  situation  my  friendship  for  you 
has  reduced  me  :  a  choice  faculty  develops  itself,  all  on  a  sudden,  for 
your  sake  ;  what  an  occurrence  !  May  it  not  be  something  more  than 
friendship  that  so  holds  tlie  balance  of  my  conscience?  Between  guilt 
and  curiosity  1  am  wonderfully  discomposed  ;  I  have  a  hundred  whims 
and  stories  about  what  may  follow  ;  law  and  judgment  will  not  be 
trifled  with.  Hersilia,  the  careless,  and  as  occasion  served,  capricious 
Hersilia,  ent?.ngled  in  a  criminal  process,  for  this  is  the  scope  and  ten- 
dency of  \\*.  And  what  can  I  do,  but  think  of  the  friend  for  whose 
sake  I  suffer  all  this?  I  thought  of  you  before, yet  with  pauses  ;  but 
how  I  think  of  you  incessantly;  now  when  my  heart  throbs,  and  I 
think  of  the  eightli  commandment,  I  must  turn  to  you,  as  to  the  saint, 
who  has  caused  this  sin,  and  will  also  procure  me  an  absolution  ;  thus 
the  opening  of  the  casket  is  the  only  thing  that  can  compose  me.  My 
curiosity  is  growing  stronger  and  doubly  strong  :  come  and  bring  the 
casket  with  you  !  To  what  judgment-seat  it  properly  belongs  we 
will  make  out  between  us  ;  till  then  let  it  remain  between  us  ;  no 
one  must  know  of  it,  be  who  he  will. 

Friedrich  returned  more  gay  and  lively  than  he  had  gone  :  "  Good 
news  !"  cried  he  :  "good  luck  I  Lenardo  has  received  some  pretty 
letters,  to  facilitate  the  parting  ;  credit  more  than  sufficient  ;  and 
thou  too  shalt  have  thy  share  in  it.  Fortune  lier.self  surely  knows 
not  what  she  is  about ;  for  once  in  her  time  she  has  done  wise  worthy 
fellows  a  favor." 


570  MEISTEB'S  TRAVELS. 

Hereupon  lie  banded  to  his  friend  some  clipped  fragments  of  maps, 
with  directions  where  they  were  to  be  produced,  and  changed  for 
hard  cash  or  bills,  as  he  might  choose.  Wilhelm  was  obliged  to  ac- 
cept them,  though  he  kept  assuring  his  companion,  that  for  the  pres- 
ent he  had  no  need  of  such  things.  "Then  others  will  need  them  !" 
cried  Fried  rich  :  "constrain  not  thy  good  feelings;  and  wherever 
thou  art,  appear'as  a  benefactor.  But  now  come  along,  let  us  have 
a  look  at  this  manuscript  :  it  is  long  till  night  ;  one  tires  of  talking 
and  listening,  so  I  have  begged  some  writing  for  our  entertainment. 
Every  leaf  in  Leuardo's  archives  is  penned  in  the  spirit  of  the  whole  ; 
in  giving  me  this  he  said  :  'Well,  take  it,  and  read  it  ;  our  friend 
will  acquire  more  confidence  in  our  society  and  bond,  the  more  good 
members  he  becomes  acquainted  with.'"  The  two  then  retired  to  a 
cheerful  spot  ;  and  Fried  rich  read,  enlivening  with  much  natural  en- 
ergy and  mirth  what  he  found  set  down  for  him. 

WHO  CAN  THE   TRAITOR  BE? 

"  No  !  no  ! "  exclaimed  he,  violently  and  hastily  rushing  into  the 
chamber  allotted  him,  and  setting  down  his  candle  :  "  No  !  it  is  im- 
possible !  But  whither  shall  I  turn  ?  For  the  first  time,  I  think 
otherwise  than   he  ;    for  the   first   time,  I    feel,   I  wish   otherwise. 

0  father  !  couldst  thou  but  be  present  invisibly,  couldst  thou  but 
look  through  and  through  me,  thou  wouldst  see  that  I  am  still  the 
same,  still  thy  true,  obedient,  affectionate  son.  Yet  to  say  no  !  To 
contradict  my  fatlier's  dearest,  long  cherished  wish  !  How  shall  I 
disclose  it?  How  shall  I  express  it?  No,  I  cannot  marry  Jnlia  ! 
While  I  speak  of  it,  I  shudder.  And  how  shall  I  appear  before 
him,  tell  him  this,  him  the  good,  kind  father?  He  looks  at  me 
with  astonishment,  without  speaking  :  the  prudent,  clear-sighted, 
gifted  man  can  find  no  words.  Woe  is  me  !  Ah,  I  know  well  to 
whom  I  would  confide  this  pain,  this  perplexity  ;  who  n  is  1  would 
choose  for  my  advocate  !     Before  all  others,  thou,   Lucinda  !     And 

1  would  first  tell  thee  how  I  love  thee,  how  I  give  myself  to  thee, 
and  pressingly  entreat  thee  to  speak  for  me  ;  and  if  thou  canst  love 
me  again,  if  thou  wilt  be  mine,  to  speak  for  us  both." 

To  explain  this  short  pithy  monologue  will  require  some  details. 

Professor  N.  of  N.  had  an  only  boy  of  singular  beauty,  whom,  till 
the  child's  eighth  year,  he  had  left  entirely  in  charge  of  his  wife. 
This  excellent  woman  had  directed  the  hours  and  days  of  her  son,  in 
living,  learning  and  all  good  behavior.  She  died  ;  and  the  father 
instantly  felt,  that  to  prosecute  this  parental  tutelage  was  impossible. 
In  their  lifetime,  all  had  been  harmony  between  the  parents  ;  they 
had  labored  for  a  common  aim,  had  determined  in  concert  what  was 
next  to  be  done  ;  and  the  mother  had  not  wanted  skill  to  execute 
wisely,  by  herself,  what  the  two  had  jjlanned  together.  Double  and 
treble  was  now  the  widower's  anxiety,  seeing,  as  he  could  not  but 


CHAPTER  XIX.  571 

daily  see,  that  for  the  sons  of  professors,  even  in  universities,  it  was 
only  by  a  sort  of  miracle  that  a  happy  education  could  be  expected. 

In  this  strait  he  applied  to  his  friend  the  oberauitmann  of  R. , 
with  whom  he  had  already  been  treating  of  plans  for  a  closer  alli- 
ance between  their  families.  The  oberamtmaun  gave  him  counsel 
and  assistance  ;  so  the  son  was  established  in  one  of  those  institu- 
tions, which  still  flourish  in  Germany,  and  where  charge  is  taken  of 
the  whole  man,  and  body,  soul  and  spirit  are  trained  with  all  atten- 
tion. 

The  son  was  thus  provided  for  ;  the  father,  however,  felt  himself 
very  lonely  :  robbed  of  his  wife  ;  shut  out  from  the  cheerful  pres- 
ence of  the  boy,  whom  he  had  seen,  without  effort  of  his,  growing 
up  in  such  desirable  culture.  But  here  again  the  friendship  of  the 
oberamtmaun  served  him  in  good  stead  ;  the  distance  of  their  abodes 
vanished  before  his  affection,  his  desire  for  movement,  for  diversion 
of  thought.  In  this  hospitable  home  the  widowed  man  of  letters 
found,  in  a  family-circle  motherless  like  his  own,  two  beautiful  little 
daughters  growing  up  in  diverse  loveliness  ;  a  state  of  things  which 
more  and  more  contirnied  the  fathers  in  their  purpose,  in  their  hope, 
of  one  day  seeing  their  families  united  in  the  most  joyful  bonds. 

They  lived  under  the  swaj-  of  a  mild  good  prince  :  the  meritorious 
oberamtmaun  vvas  certain  of  his  post  difriug  life-;  and  in  the  ap- 
pointment of  a  successor  his  recommendation  was  likely  to  go  far. 
And  now,  according  to  the  wise  family  arrangement,  sanctioned  also 
by  the  minister,  Lucidor  was  to  train  himself  for  the  important  office 
of  his  future  father-in-law.  This  in  consequence  he  did  from  step  to 
step.  Nothing  was  neglected  in  communicating  to  him  all  sorts  of 
knowledge,  in  developing  in  him  all  sorts  of  activity,  which  the  state 
in  any  case  requires  :  practice  in  rigorous  judicial  law  ;  and  also  in 
the  laxer  fort,  where  prudence  and  address  find  their  proper  field  ; 
foresight  for  daily  ways  and  means  ;  not  excluding  higher  and  more 
comprehensJ\-e  views,  yet  all  tending  towards  practical  life,  and  so 
as  with  effect  and  certainty  to  be  employed  in  its  concerns. 

With  such  purposes  had  Lucidor  spent  his  school-years  :  by  his 
father  and  his  patron,  he  was  now  warned  to  make  ready  for  the  uni- 
versity. In  all  departments  he  had  already  showed  the  fairest  talents  ; 
and  to  nature  he  was  farther  indebted  for  the  singular  happiness  of 
inclining,  out  of  love  for  his  father,  out  of  respect  for  his  friend,  to 
turn  his  capabilities,  first  from  obedience,  then  from  conviction,  on 
that  very  object  to  which  he  was  directed.  He  was  placed  in  a  for- 
eign universit}"  ;  and  here,  both  by  his  own  account  in  his  letters, 
and  by  the  testimony  of  his  teacliprs  and  overseers,  he  continued 
walking  in  the  path  that  led  towards  his  appointed  goal.  It  was  only 
objected  to  him,  that  in  certain  cases  he  had  been  too  impetuously 
brave.  The  father  shook  his  head  at  this  ;  the  oberamtmann  nodded. 
Who  would  not  have  been  proud  of  such  a  son  ? 

Meanwhile,  the  two  daughters,  Julia  and  Lucinda,  were  waxing 


572  MEI8TEB' 8  TRAVELS. 

in  stature  and  graces.  Julia,  the  younger,  waggish,  lovely,  unstable, 
highly  entertaining  ;  the  other  difficult  to  portray,  for  in  her  sincerity 
and  purity  she  represented  all  that  we  prize  most  in  woman.  Visits 
were  paid  and  repaid  ;  and  in  the  professor's  house,  Julia  found  the 
most  inexhaustible  amusement. 

Geography,  which  he  failed  not  to  enliven  by  topography,  belonged 
to  his  province  ;  and  no  sooner  did  Julia  cast  her  eyes  on  any  of  the 
volumes,  of  which  a  whole  series  from  Homann's  warehouse  were 
standing  there,  than  the  cities  all  and  sundry  had  to  be  mustered, 
judged,  preferred  or  rejected ;  all  havens  especially  obtained  her 
favor  ;  other  towns,  to  acquire  even  a  slight  approval  from  her,  must 
stand  forth  well  supplied  with  steeples,  domes  and  minarets. 

Julia's  father  often  left  her  for  weeks  to  the  care  of  this  tried  friend. 
She  was  actually  advancing  in  knowledge  of  her  science  ;  and  already 
the  inhabited  world,  in  its  main  features,  in  its  chief  points  and  places, 
stood  before  her  with  some  accuracy  and  distinctness.  The  garbs  of 
foreign  nations  attracted  her  peculiar  attention  ;  and  often  when  her 
foster-father  asked  her  in  jest  ;  if  among  the  many  young  handsome 
men  who  were  passing  to  and  fro  before  her  window,  there  was  not 
some  one  or  other  whom  she  liked  ?  she  would  answer  :  "  Yes,  indeed, 
if  he  do  but  look  odd  enough."  And  as  our  young  students  are  sel- 
dom behindhand  in  this  particular,  she  had  often  occasion  to  take 
notice  of  individuals  among  them  :  they  brought  to  her  mind  the  cos- 
tume of  foreign  nations  ;  however,  she  declared  in  the  end,  that  if 
she  was  to  bestow  her  undivided  attention  on  any  one,  he  must  be  at 
least  a  Greek,  equipped  in  the  complete  fashion  of  his  country  ;  on 
which  account,  also,  she  longed  to  be  at  some  Leij)zig  fair,  where,  as 
she  understood,  such  persons  were  to  be  seen  walking  the  streets. 

After  his  dry  and  often  irksome  labors,  our  teacher  had  now  no 
happier  moments  than  those  he  spent  in  mirthfully  instructing  her  ; 
triumphing  withal,  in  secret,  that  a  being  so  attractive,  ever  enter- 
taining, ever  entertained,  was  in  the  end  to  be  his  own  daughter.  For 
the  rest,  the  two  fathers  had  mutually  agreed,  that  no  hint  of  their 
purpose  should  be  communicated  to  the  girls  ;  from  Lucidor,  also,  it 
was  kept  secret. 

Thus  years  had  passed  away,  as  indeed  they  very  lightly  pass  ; 
Lucidor  presented  himself  completed,  having  stood  all  trials  to  the  joy 
even  of  the  superior  overseers,  who  wished  nothing  more  lieartily 
than  being  able,  with  a  good  conscience,  to  fulfill  the  hopes  of  old, 
worthy,  favored  and  deserving  servants. 

And  so  the  business  had  at  length  by  quite  regular  steps  come  so 
far,  that  Lucidor,  after  having  demeaned  himself  in  subordinate  sta- 
tions to  universal  satisfaction,  was  now  to  be  placed  in  a  very  advan- 
tageous post,  suitable  to  his  wishes  and  merits,  and  lying  just  midway 
between  the  univei'sity  and  the  oberamtmannship. 

The  father  now  spoke  with  his  son  about  Julia,  of  whom  he  had 
Jiitherto  only  hinted,  as  about  his  bride  and  wife,  without  any  doubt 


CHAPTER  XIX.  573 

or  condition  ;  congratulating  liira  on  the  happiness  of  having  appro- 
priated such  a  jewel  to  himself.  The  professor  saw  in  fancy  his 
daughter-in-law  again  from  time  to  time  in  his  house  ;  occupied  with 
charts,  plans  and  views  of  cities  :  the  sou  called  to  mind  the  gay  and 
most  lovely  creature,  who,  in  times  of  childhood,  had,  hy  her  rogueries 
as  by  her  kindliuess,  always  delighted  him.  Lucidor  was  now  tf)  ride 
over  to  the  oberamtmann's,  to  talve  a  closer  view  of  the  full-grown 
fair  one  ;  and,  for  a  few  weeks,  to  surrender  himself  to  the  habitudes 
and  familiarity  of  her  household.  If  the  young  people,  as  was  to  be 
hoped,  should  speedily  agree,  the  professor  was  fort li with  to  appear, 
that  so  solemn  a  betrothment  might  forever  secure  the  anticipated 
happiness. 

Lucidor  arrives,  is  received  with  the  friendliest  welcome,  a  chamber 
is  allotted  him  ;  he  arranges  himself  there,  and  appears.  And  now 
he  finds,  besides  the  members  of  the  family  already  known  to  us,  a 
grown-up  son  ;  misbred  certainly,  yet  shrewd  and  good-natured  ;  so 
that  if  you  liked  to  take  him  as  the  jesting  counselor  of  the  party, 
he  fitted  not  ill  with  the  rest.  There  belonged,  moreover,  to  the 
house,  a  very  old,  but  healthy  and  gay-hearted  man  ;  quiet,"  wise,  dis- 
creet ;  completing  his  life,  as  it  were,  and  here  and  there  requiring 
a  little  help.  Directly  after  Lucidor,  too,  there  had  arrived  another 
stranger  ;  no  longer  young,  of  an  impressive  aspect,  dignified,  thor- 
oughly well-bred,  and,  by  his  acquaintance  with  the  most  dis- 
tant quarters  of  the  world,  extremely  entertaining.  He  was  called 
Antoni. 

Julia  received  her  announced  bridegroom  in  fit  order,  yet  with  an 
excess  rather  than  a  defect  of  frankness  :  Lucinda,  on  the  other  hand, 
did  the  honors  of  the  house,  as  her  sister  did  those  of  herself.  So 
passed  the  day  ;  peculiarly  agreeable  to  all,  only  to  Lucidor  not/f  ne, 
at  all  times  silent,  had  been  forced,  that  he  might  avoid  sinking  dumb 
entirel}-,  to  employ  himself  in^ asking  questions  ;  and  in  this  attitude 
no  one  appears  to  advantage,  i 

Througliout  he  had  beeu'aTSsent-minded  ;  for  at  the  first  glance  he 
had  felt,   not  aversion   or   repugnance,   yet    estrangement,  towards  i 
Julia  ;  Lucinda,  on  the  contrary,  attracted  him,  so  that  he  trembled  \ 
every  time  she  looked  at  him  with  her  full  pure  peaceful  eyes. 

Thus  hard  bested,  he  reached  his  chamber  the  first  night,  and  gave 
vent  to  his  heart  in  that  soliloquy  with  which  we  began.  But  to  ex- 
plain this  sufficiently,  to  show  how  the  violence  of  such  an  emphatic 
speech  agrees  with  what  we  know  of  him  already,  another  little  state- 
ment will  be  necessary. 

Lucidor  was  of  a  deep  character  ;  and  for  most  part  had  something 
else  in  his  mind  thau  what  the  present  scene  required  ;  hence  talk 
and  social  conversation  would  never  prosper  rightly  with  him  ;  he 
felt  this,  and  was  wont  to  continue  silent,  except  when  the  topic  hap- 
pened to  be  particular,  on  some  department  which  he  had  completely 
studied,  and  of  which  whatever  he  needed  was  at  all  times  ready. 


574  '     MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

Besides  tins,  in  Lis  early  years  at  scliool,  and  later  at  the  university, 
he  had  been  deceived  in  friends,  and  had  wasted  the  effusions  of  his 
heart  unhappily  ;  hence  every  communication  of  his  feelings  seemed 
to  him  a  doubtful  step,  and  doubting  destroys  all  such  communica- 
tion. With  his  father  he  was  used  to  speak  only  in  unison  ;  there- 
fore his  full  heart  poured  itself  out  in  monologues,  so  soon  as  he 
was  by  himself. 

Next  morning  he  had  summoned  up  his  resolution  ;  and  yet  he 
almost  lost  heart  and  composure  again,  when  Julia  met  him  Avith  still 
more  friendliness,  gayety  and  frankness  than  ever.  She  had  much 
to  ask  ;  about  his  journeys  by  land  and  journeys  by  water  ;  how, 
when  a  student,  with  his  knapsack  on  his  back,  he  had  roamed  and 
climbed  through  Switzerland,  nay,  crossed  the  Alps  themselves. 
And  now  of  those  fair  islands  on  the  great  southern  lake  she  had 
much  to  say  ;  and  then  backwards,  the  Rhine  must  be  accompanied 
from  his  primary  origin  ;  at  first,  through  most  undelicious  regions, 
and  so  downwards  through  many  ah  alternation,  till  at  length,  be- 
tween Maynz  and  Coblenz,  you  find  it  still  worth  while  respectfully 
to  dismiss  the  old  river  from  his  last  confinement,  into  the  wide  world, 
into  the  sea. 

Lucidor,  in  the  course  of  this  recital,  felt  himself  much  lightened 
in  heart  ;  he  narrated  willingly  and  well,  so  that  Julia  at  last  ex- 
claimed in  rapture  :  "  Tt  is  thus  that  our  other  self  should  be  !"  At 
which  phrase  Lucidor  again  felt  startled  and  frightened  ;  thinking 
he  saw  in  it  an  allusion  to  their  future  pilgrimage  in  common  through 
life. 

From  his  narrative  duty,  however,  he  was  soon  relieved  ;  for  the 
stranger,  Antoni,  very  speedily  overshadowed  all  mountain  streams, 
and  rocky  banks  and  rivers,  w^hether  hemmed  in  or  left  at  liberty. 
Under  his  guidance  you  now  went  forward  to  Genoa  ;  Livorno  lay  at 
no  great  distance  ;  whatever  was  most  interesting  in  the  country  you 
took  with  you  as  fair  spoil  ;  Naples,  too,  was  a  place  you  should  see 
before  you  die  ;  and  then,  in  truth,  remained  Constantinople,  which 
also  was  by  no  means  to  be  neglected.  Antoni's  descriptions  of  the 
wide  world  carried  the  imagination  of  every  hearer  along  with  him, 
though  Antoni  himself  introduced  little  fire  into  the  subject.  Julia, 
quite  enraptured,  was  .still  nowise  satisfied  :  she  longed  for  Alexan- 
dria, Cairo,  and  above  all,  for  the  Pyramids  ;  of  which,  by  the  lessons 
of  her  intended  father-in-law,  she  had  gained  some  moderate  knowl- 
edge. 

Lucidor  next  night  (he  had  scarcely  shut  his  door  ;  the  candle  he 
had  not  put  doAvn)  exclaimed  :  "  Now  bethink  thee,  then  ;  it  is  grow- 
ing serious  !  Thou  ha.st  studied  and  meditated  many  serious  things  : 
what  avails  thy  law-learning,  if  thou  canst  not  act  like  a  man  of  law? 
View  thyself  as  a  delegate,  forget  thy  o\yn  feelings,  and  do  what  it 
would  behoove  thee  to  do  for  another.  It  thickens  and  closes  round 
me  horribly  ?     The  stranger  is  plainly  come  for  the  sake  of  Lucinda  ; 


CHAPTER  XIX.  575 

she  sliows  him  the  fairest,  noblest  social  and  hospitable  attentions  : 
that  little  fool  would  run  through  the  world  with  any  one  for  any- 
thing or  nothing.  Besides,  she  is  a  wag  ;  her  interest  in  cities  and 
countries  is  a  farce,  by  which  she  keeps  us  in  silence.  But  why  do 
I  look  at  the  affair  so  perplexedly,  so  narrowly  ?  Is  not  the  oberamt- 
inann  himself  the  most  judicious,  the  clearest,  the  kindest  mediator? 
Thou  wilt  tell  him  how  thou  feelest  and  thinkest  ;  and  he  will  think 
with  thee,  if  not  likewise  feel.  With  thy  father  he  has  all  influence. 
And  is  not  the  one  as  well  as  the  other  his  daughter?  What  would 
this  Antoni  the  traveler  with  Lucinda,  who  ^^  born  for  home,  to  be 
happy  and  to  make  happy?  Let  the  wavering  quicksilver  fasten 
itself  to  the  Wandering  Jew  ;  that  will  be  a  right  match." 

Next  morning  Lucidor  came  down,  with  the  firm  purpose  of  speak- 
ing with  the  father  ;  and  waiting  on  him  expressly  to  that  end,  at 
the  hour  when  he  knew  him  to  be  disengaged.  How  great  was  his 
vexation,  his  perplexity,  on  learning  that  the  oberamtmann  had  been 
called  away  on  business,  and  was  not  expected  till  the  day  after 
the  morrow  I  Julia,  on  this  occasion,  seemed  to  be  expressly  in 
her  traveling  fit  ;  she  kept  by  the  world-wanderer,  and,  with  some 
sportive  hits  at  domestic  economy,  gave  up  Lucidor  to  Lucinda. 
If  our  friend,  viewing  this  noble  maiden  from  a  certain  distance, 
and  under  one  general  impression,  had  already,  with  his  whole 
heart,  loved  her,  he  failed  not  now  in  this  nearest  nearness  to  dis- 
cover with  double  and  treble  vividness  in  detail,  all  that  had  before 
as  a  whole  attracted  him. 

The  good  old  friend  of  the  family  now  brought  himself  forward, 
in  place  of  the  absent  father  ;  he  too  had  lived,  had  loved  ;  and  was 
now,  after  many  hard  buffetings  and  bruises  of  life,  resting  at  last, 
refreshed  and  cheerful,  beside  the  friend  of  his  youth.  He  enlivened 
the  conversation  ;  and  especially  expatiated  on  perplexities  in  choice 
of  wives  ;  relating  several  remarkable  examples  of  explanations,  both 
in  time  and  too  late.  Lucinda  appeared  in  all  her  splendor.  She 
admitted  that  accident,  in  all  departments  of  life,  and  so  likewise  in 
the  business  of  marriage,  often  produced  the  best  result  ;  yet  that  it 
was  finer  a^id  prouder  when  one  could  say  he  owed  his  happiness  to 
himself,  to  the  silent  calm  conviction  of  his  heart,  to  a  noble  purpo.se 
and  a  quick  determination.  Tears  stood  in  Lucidor's  eyes  as  he  ap- 
plauded this  sentiment  :  directly  afterwards,  the  two  ladies  went  out. 
The  old  president  liked  well  to  deal  in  illustrative  histories  ;  and  so 
the  conversation  expanded  itself  into  details  of  pleasant  instances, 
which,  however,  touched  our  hero  so  closely,  that  none  but  a  youth 
of  as  delicate  manners  as  his  could  have  refrained  from  breaking  out 
with  his  secret.     He  did  break  out,  so  soon  as  he  was  by  himself. 

'•  I  have  constrained  myself  I  "  exclaimed  he  :  "  with  such  perplex- 
ities I  will  not  vex  my  good  father  :  I  have  forborne  to  speak  ;  for  I 
see  in  this  worthy  old  man  the  substitute  of  both  fathers.  To  him 
will  I  speak  ;  to  him  disclose  the  'whole  ;  he  will  surely  bring  it 


576  MEI8TEB' 8  TRAVELS. 

about ;  he  lias  already  almost,  spoken  wliat  I  wisli.  Will  lie  censure 
in  the  individual  case  what  he  praises  in  general  ?  To-morrow  I  visit 
him  ;  I  must  give  vent  to  this  oppression," 

At  breakfast  the  old  man  was  not  present  ;  last  night  he  had  spoken, 
it  appeared,  too  much  ;  had  sat  too  long,  and  likewise  drunk  a  drop 
or  two  of  wine  beyond  his  custom.  Much  was  said  in  his  praise  ; 
many  anecdotes  were  related  ;  and  precisely  of  such  sayings  and 
doings  as  brought  Lucidor  to  despair  for  not  having  forthwith  applied 
to  him.  This  unpleasant  feeling  was  but  aggravated,  when  he  learned 
that  in  such  attacks  of  disorder  the  good  old  man  would  often  not 
make1>is  reappearance  for  a  week. 

For  social  converse  a  country  residence  has  many  advantages,  espe- 
cially when  the  owners  of  it  have,  for  a  course  of  years,  been  induced, 
as  thinking  or  feeling  persons,  to  improve  the  natural  capabilities  of 
their  environs.  Such  had  been  the  good  fortune  of  this  spot.  The 
oberamtmann,  at  first  unwedded,  then  in  a  long  happy  marriage,  him- 
self a  man  of  fortune,  and  occupying  a  lucrative  post,  had,  according 
to  the  taste  of  his  wife,  nay,  at  last,  according  to  the  wishes  and  whims 
of  his  children,  laid  out  and  forwarded  many  larger  and  smaller  deco- 
rations ;  which,  by  degrees,  being  skillfully  connected  with  planta- 
tions and  paths,  affordqd  to  the  promenader  a  very  beautiful,  continu- 
ally varying,  characteristic  series  of  scenes.  A  pilgrimage  through 
these,  our  young  hosts  now  proposed  to  their  guests  ;  as  in  general 
we  take  pleasure  in  showing  our  improvements  to  a  stranger,  that  so 
what  has  become  habitual  in  our  eyes  may  appear  with  the  charm  of 
novelty  in  his,  and  leave  with  him,  in  permanent  remembrance,  its 
fir.st  favorable  impression. 

Tlie  nearest,  as  well  as  the  most  distant  part  of  the  grounds,  was 
peculiarly  appropriate  for  modest  decorations,  and  altogether  rural 
individualities.  Fertile  hills  alternated  with  well-watered  meadows, 
so  that  the  Avhole  was  visible  from  time  to  time,  without  being  flat  ; 
and  if  the  land  seemed  chiefly  devoted  to  purposes  of  utility,  the 
graceful,  the  attractive,  was  by  no  means  excluded. 

To  the  dwelling  and  office-houses  were  united  various  gardens,  orch- 
ards and  green  spaces  ;  out  of  which  you  imperceptibly  passed  into 
a  little  wood,  with  a  broad,  clear  carriage  road  winding  up  and  down 
through  the  midst  of  it.  Plere,  in  a  central  spot,  on  the  most  consid- 
erable elevation,  there  had  been  a  hall  erected,  with  side-chambers 
entering  from  it.  On  coming  through  the  main  door,  you  .saw  in  a 
large  mirror  the  most  favorable  prospect  which  the  country  afforded  ; 
and  were  sure  to  turn  round  that  instant,  to  recover  yourself  on  the 
reality  from  the  effect  of  this  its  unexpected  image  ;  for  the  approach 
was  artfully  enough  contrived,  and  all  that  could  excite  surprise  was 
carefully  hid  till  the  last  moment.  No  one  entered  but  felt  himself 
pleasurably  tempted  to  turn  from  the  mirror  to  nature,  and  from  na- 
ture to  the  mirror. 

Once  in  motion  in  this  fairest,  brightest,  longest  day,  our  party 


OHAPTER  XIX.  ST: 

made  a  spiritual  campaign  of  it,  over  and  through  the  whole.  Here 
the  daughters  pointed  out  the  evening  seat  of  their  good  mother, 
where  a  stately  box-tree  had  kept  clear  space  all  round  it.  A  little 
farther  on,  Lucinda's  place  of  morning  prayer  was  half-roguislily  ex- 
hibited by  Julia  :  close  to  a  little  brook,  between  poplars  and  alders, 
with  meadows  sloping  down  from  it,  and  fields  stretching  upwards, 
it  was  indescribably  pretty.  You  thought  you  had  seen  such  a  spot 
everywhere,  but  nowhere  so  impressive  and  so  perfect  in  its  simplic- 
ity. In  return  for  this,  the  young  master,  also  half  against  Julia's 
will,  pointed  out  the  tiny  groves  and  child's  gardens,  which,  close  by 
a  snug-lying  mill,  were  now  scarcely  discernible  ;  they  dated  from  a 
time  when  Julia,  perhaps  in  her  tenth  year,  had  taken  it  into  her 
head  to  become  a  milleress  ;  intending,  after  the  decease  of  the  two 
old  occupants,  to  assume  the  management  herself,  and  choose  some 
brave  millman  for  her  husband. 

"  That  was  at  a  time,"  cried  Julia,  "  when  I  knew  nothing  of  towns 
lying  on  rivers,  or  even  on  the  sea  ;  nothing  of  Genoa,  of  Naples  and 
the  like.  Your  worthy  father,  Lucidor,  has  converted  me  ;  of  late  I 
come  seldom  hither."  She  sat  down  with  a  roguish  air,  on  a  little 
bench,  that  now  was  scarcely  large  enough  for  her  ;  under  an  elder 
bough,  which  had  bent  deeply  towards  the  ground.  "Fie  on  this 
cowering ! "  cried  she  ;  then  started  up,  and  ran  off  with  her  gay 
brother. 

The  remaining  pair  kept  up  a  rational  conversation  ;  and  in  these 
cases  reason  approaches  close  to  the  borders  of  feeling.  Wandering 
over  changeful,  simple  natural  objects,  to  contemplate  at  leisui'e  how 
cunning  scheming  man  contrives  to  gain  some  profit  from  them  ;  how  i 
his  perception  of  what  is  laid  before  him,  combining  with  the  feeling  I 
of  his  wants,  does  wonders,  first  in  rendering  the  world  inhabitable, 
then  in  peopling  it,  and  at  last  in  overpeopling  it  ;  all  this  could  here 
be  talked  of  in  detail.  Lucinda  gave  account  of  everything  ;  and,  mod- 
est as  she  was,  she  could  not  hide  that  these  pleasant  and  convenient 
combinations  of  distant  parts  by  roads,-  had  been  her  work,  under  the 
proposal,  direction,  or  favor  of  her  revered  mother. 

But  as  the  longest  day  at  last  bends  down  to  evening,  our  party 
were  at  last  forced  to  think  of  returning  ;  and  while  devising  some 
pleasant  circuit,  the  merry  brother  proposed  that  they  should  take 
the  short  road,  though  it  commanded  no  fine  prospects,  and  was  even 
in  some  places  more  difficult  to  get  over.  "  For,"  cried  he,  "you 
have  preached  all  day  about  your  decorations  and  reparations,  and 
how  you  have  improved  and  beautified  the  scene  for  pictorial  eyes 
and  feeling  hearts  :  let  me  also  have  my  turn." 

Accordingly  they  now  set  forth  over  plowed  grounds,  by  coarse 
paths,  nay,  sometimes  picking  their  way  by  stepping-stones  in  boggy 
places  ;  till  at  last  they  perceived,  at  some  distance,  a  pile  of  machin- 
ery towering  up  in  manifold  combination.  More  closely  examined, 
it  turned  out  to  be  a  large  apparatus  for  sport  and  games,  arranged 
Meister— 19 


578  MEI8TER' 8  TRAVELS. 

not  witliout  judgment,  and  in  a  certain  popular  spirit.  Here,  fixed 
at  suitable  distances,  stood  a  large  swing-wlieel,  on  whicli  the  ascend- 
ing and  the  descending  riders  might  still  sit  horizontally  and  at  their 
ease  ;  other  see-saws,  swing-ropes,  leaping-poles,  bowling  and  nine- 
pins coui'ses,  and  whatever  can  be  fancied  for  variedly  and  equally 
employing  and  diverting  a  crowd  of  people  gathered  on  a  large  com- 
mon. "This,"  cried  he,  "is  my  invention,  my  decoration!  And 
though  my  father  found  the  money,  and  a  shrewd  fellow  the  brain 
necessary  for  it,  yet  without  me,  whom  you  often  call  a  person  of  no 
judgment,  money  and  brain  would  not  have  come  together." 

In  this  cheerful  mood,  the  whole  four  reached  home  by  sunset. 
Antoni  also  joined  them  ;  but  the  little  Julia,  not  yet  satisfied  with 
this  unresting  travel,  ordered  her  coach,  and  set  fortli  on  a  visit  to  a 
lady  of  her  friends,  in  utter  despair  at  not  having  seen  her  for  two 
days.  The  party  left  behind  began  to  feel  embarrassed  before  they 
were  aware  ;  it  was  even  mentioned  in  words  that  the  father's  absence 
distressed  them.  The  conversation  was  about  to  stagnate,  when  all  at 
once  the  madcap  sprang  from  his  seat,  and  in  a  few  moments  returned 
with  a  book,  proposing  to  read  to  the  company.  Luciuda  forbore  not 
to  inquire  how  this  notion  had  occurred  to  him,  now  for  the  first  time 
in  a  twelvemonth.  "  Everything  occurs  to  me,"  said  he,  "  at  the  pro- 
per season  ;  this  is  more  than  you  can  say  for  yourself."  He  read 
them  a  series  of  genuine  antique  tales  :  such  as  lead  man  away  from 
himself,  flattering  his  wishes,  and  making  him  forget  all  those  restric- 
tions, between  which,  even  in  the  happiest  moments,  we  are  still 
hemmed  in. 

"  What  shall  I  do  now  ! "  cried  Lucidor,  when  at  last  he  saw  him- 
self alone.  "  The  hour  presses  on  :  in  Antoni  I  have  no  trust ;  he  is 
an  utter  stranger  ;  I  know  not  who  he  is,  how  he  comes  to  be  here, 
nor  what  he  wants  ;  Lucinda  seems  to  be  his  object,  and  if  so,  what 
can  I  expect  of  him?  Nothing  remains  for  me  but  applying  to 
Lucinda  herself  ;  she  must  know  of  it,  she  before  all  others.  This 
was  my  first  feeling  :  why  do  we  stray  into  side  paths  and  subter- 
fuges ?  My  first  thought  shall  be  my  last,  and  I  hope  to  reach  my 
aim. " 

On  Saturday  morning,  Lucidor,  dressed  at  an  early  hour,  was  walk- 
ing to  and  fro  in  his  chamber ;  thinking  and  conning  over  his  pro- 
jected address  to  Lucinda,  when  he  heard  a  sort  of  jestful  contention 
before  his  door,  and  the  door  itself  directly  afterwards  went  up.  The 
mad  younker  was  shoving  in  a  boy  before  him,  with  coffee  and  baked 
ware  for  the  guest  ;  he  himself  carried  cold  meats  and  wine.  ' '  Go 
thou  foremost,"  cried  the  younker,  "  for  the  guest  must  be  first  served  ; 
I  am  vised  to  serve  myself.  My  friend,  to-day  I  am  entering  somewhat 
early  and  tumultuously,  but  let  us  take  our  breakfast  in  peace,  then 
we  shall  see  what  is  to  be  done  ;  for  of  our  company  there  is  nothing 
to  be  hoped.  The  little  one  is  not  yet  back  from  her  friend  ;  they 
two  have  to  pour  out  their  hearts  together  every  fortnight,  otherwise 


CHAPTER  XIX.  .         579 

the  poor  dear  hearts  would  burst.  On  Saturdays,  Lucinda  is  good  for 
nothing ;  she  balances  her  household  accounts  for  my  father  ;  she 
would  have  had  me  taking  share  in  the  concern,  but  Heaven  forbid  ! 
When  1  know  the  price  of  anything,  no  morsel  of  it  can  I  relish. 
Guests  are  expected  to-morrow  ;  the  old  man  has  not  yet  got  refitted  ; 
Antoni  is  gone  to  hunt,  we  will  do  the  same." 

Guns,  pouches  and  dogs  were  ready,  as  our  pair  stepped  down 
into  the  court  ;  and  now  they  set  forth  over  field  and  hill,  shooting 
at  best  some  leveret  or  so,  and  perhaps  here  and  there  a  poor  indif- 
ferent undeserving  bird.  Meanwhile  they  kept  talking  of  domestic 
affairs,  of  the  household  and  company  at  present  assembled  in  it. 
Antoni  was  mentioned,  and  Lucidor  failed  not  to  inquire  more  nar- 
rowly about  him.  The  gay  younker,  with  some  self-complaisance, 
asserted,  that  strange  as  the  man  was,  and  much  mystery  as  he  made 
about  himself,  he,  the  gay  younker,  had  already  seen  through  him 
and  through  him.  "  Without  doubt,"  continued  he,  "  Antoni  is  the 
son  of  a  rich  mercantile  family,  whose  large  partnership  concern  fell 
to  ruin  at  the  very  time  when  he,  in  the  full  vigor  of  youth,  was 
preparing  to  take  a  cheerful  and  active  hand  in  their  great  under- 
takings, and  withal  to  share  in  their  abundant  profits.  Dashed  down 
from  the  summit  of  his  hopes,  he  gathered  himself  together,  and 
undertook  to  perform  for  strangers  what  he  was  no  longer  in  a  case 
to  perform  for  his  relatives.  And  so  he  traveled  through  the  world  ; 
became  thoroughly  acquainted  with  it  and  its  mutual  traffickings  ; 
in  the  meanwhile  not  forgetting  his  own  advantage.  Unwearied 
diligence  and  tried  fidelity  obtained  and  secured  for  him  unbounded 
confidence  from  many.  Thus  in  all  places  he  acquired  connections 
and  friends  ;  nay,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  his  fortune  is  as  widely  scat- 
tered abroad  as  his  acquaintance  ;  and  accordingly  his  presence  is 
from  time  to  time  required  in  all  quarters  of  the  world." 

These  things  the  merry  younker  told  in  a  more  circumstantial  and 
simple  style,  introducing  many  farcical  observations,  as  if  he  meant 
to  spin  out  his  story  to  full  length. 

"How  long,  for  instance,"  cried  he,  "has  this  Antoni  been  con- 
nected with  my  father  !  They  think  I  see  nothing,  because  I  trouble 
myself  about  nothing  ;  but  for  this  very  reason,  I  see  it  better,  as  I 
take  no  interest  in  it.  To  my  father  he  has  intrusted  large  sums, 
who  again  has  deposited  them  securely  and  to  advantage.  It  was 
but  last  night  that  he  gave  our  old  dietetic  friend  a  casket  of  jewels  ; 
a  finer,  simpler,  costlier  piece  of,  ware  I  never  cast  my  eyes  on, 
though  I  saw  this  only  with  a  single  glance,  for  they.make  a  secret 
of  it.  Most  probably  it  is  to  be  consigned  to  the  bride  for  her  pleas- 
ure, satisfaction  and  future  security.  Antoni  has  set  his  heart  on 
Lucinda  !  Yet  when  I  see  them  together,  I  cannot  think  it  a  well- 
assorted  match.  The  hop-skip  would  have  suited  him  better  ;  I  be- 
lieve, too,  she  would  take  him  sooner  than  the  elder  would.  Many 
a  time  I  see  her  looking  over  to  the  old  curmudgeon,  so  gay  and 


oSO  MEI8TER  'S  TRA  VELS. 

sympathetic,  as  if  she  could  find  in  her  heart  to  spring  into  the  coach 
witli  him,  and  fly  ofE  at  full  gallop. "  Lucidor  collected  himself  :  he 
knew  not  what  to  answer  ;  all  that  he  heard  obtained  his  internal 
approbation.  The  younker  proceeded  :  "All  along  the  girl  has  had 
a  perverted  liking  for  old  people  :  I  believe,  of  a  truth,  she  would 
have  skipped  away  and  wedded  your  father,  as  briskly  as  she  would 
his  son." 

Lucidor  followed  his  companion,  over  stock  and  stone,  as  it  pleased 
the  gay  youth  to  lead  him  :  both  forgot  the  chase,  which  at  any  rate 
could  not  be  productive.  They  called  at  a  farm-house,  where,  being 
hospitably  received,  the  one  friend  entertained  himself  with  eating, 
drinking  and  tattling  ;  the  other  again  plunged  into  meditations,  and 
projects  for  turning  this  new  discovery  to  his  own  profit. 

From  all  these  narrations  and  disclosures,  Lucidor  had  acquired  so 
much  confidence  in  Antoni,  that  immediately  on  their  return  he  asked 
for  him,  and  hastened  into  the  garden,  where  he  was  said  to  be.  In 
vain  !  No  sonl  was  to  be  seen  anywhere.  At  last  he  entered  the 
door  of  the  great  hall  :  and  strange  enough,  the  setting  sun,  reflected 
from  the  mirror,  so  dazzled  him,  that  he  could  not  recognize  the  two 
persons,  Avho  were  sitting  on  the  sofa  ;  though  he  saw  distinctly  that 
it  was  a  lady  and  a  man,  which  latter  was  that  instant  warmly  kiss- 
ing the  hand  of  his  companion.  How  great,  accordingly,  was  Lu- 
cidor's  astonishment,  when,  on  recovering  his  clearness  of  vision,  he 
beheld  Antoni  sitting  by  Lucinda  !  He  was  like  to  sink  through  the 
ground  :  he  stood,  however,  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot  ;  till  Lucinda, 
in  the  kindest,  most  unembarrassed  manner,  shifted  a  little  to  a  side, 
and  invited  him  to  take  a  seat  on  her  right  hand.  Unconsciously  he 
obeyed  her,  and  while  she  addressed  him,  inquiring  after  his  present 
days  history,  asking  pardon  for  her  absence  on  domestic  engage- 
ments, he  could  scarcely  hear  her  voice.  Antoni  rose,  and  took  his 
leave  ;  Lucinda,  resting  herself  from  her  toil,  as  the  others  were 
doing,  invited  Lucidor  to  a  short  stroll.  Walking  by  her  side,  he 
was  silent  and  embarrassed  ;  she,  too,  seemed  ill  at  ease  :  and  had 
he  been  in  the  slightest  degree  self-collected,  her  deep-drawn  breath- 
ing must  have  disclosed  to  him  that  she  had  heartfelt  sighs  to  sup- 
press. She  at  last  took  her  leave,  as  they  approached  the  house  :  he 
on  the  other  hand  turned  round  at  first  slowly,  then  at  a  violent  pace 
to  the  open  country.  The  park  was  too  narrow  for  him  ;  he  hastened 
through  the  fields,  listening  only  to  the  voice  of  his  heart,  and  with- 
out eyes  for  the  beauties  of  this  loveliest  evening.  When  he  found 
himself  alone,  and  his  feelings  were  relieving  their  violence  in  a 
shower  of  tears,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Already  in  my  life,  but  never  with  such  fierceness,  have  I  felt 
the  agony  which  now  makes  me  altogether  wretched  :  to  see  the 
long-wished-for  happiness  at  length  reach  me  ;  hand-in-hand  and 
arm-in-arm  unite  with  me  ;  and  at  the  same  moment  announce  its 
eternal  departure  !     I  was  sitting  by  "her,  I  was  walking  by  her  ;  her 


CHAPTER  XIX.  581 

fluttering  garment  touched  me,  and  I  have  lost  her  I  Reckon  it  not 
over,  torture  not  thy  heart  with  it  ;  be  silent,  and  determine  ! " 

He  laid  a  prohibition  on  his  lips  ;  he  held  his  peace,  and  planned 
and  meditated,  stepping  over  field  and  meadow  and  bush,  not  always 
by  the  smoothest  paths.  Late  at  night,  on  returning  to  his  chamber, 
he  gave  voice  to  his  thoughts  for  a  moment,  and  cried  :  "  To-morrow 
morning  I  am  gone  ;  another  such  day  I  will  not  front." 

And  so,  without  undressing,  he  threw  himself  on  the  bed.  Happy, 
healthy  season  of  youth  1  He  was  already  asleep  :  the  fatiguing 
motion  of  the  day  had  earned  for  him  the  sweetest  rest.  Out  of  bright 
morning  dreams,  however,  the  earliest  sun  awoke  him  :  this  was  the 
longest  day  in  the  year  ;  and  for  him  it  threatened  to  be  too  long.  If 
the  grace  of  the  peaceful  evening  star  had  passed  over  him  unnoticed,  he 
felt  the  awakening  beauty  of  the  morning  only  to  despair.  The  world 
was  lying  here  as  glorious  as  ever  ;  to  his  eyes  it  was  still  so  ;  but  his 
soul  contradicted  it  :  all  this  belonged  to  him  no  longer  ;  he  had  lost 
Lucinda. 

His  traveling-bag  was  soon  packed  ;  this  he  was  to  leave  behind 
him  ;  he  left  no  letter  with  it ;  a  verbal  message  in  excuse  of  absence 
from  dinner,  perhaps  also  from  supper,  might  be  left  with  the  groom, 
whom  at  any  rate  he  must  awaken.  The  groom,  however,  was  awake 
already.  Lucidor  found  him  in  the  yard,  walking  with  large  strides 
before  the  stable-door.  "You  do  not  mean  to  ride  ?  "  cried  the  usually 
good-natured  man,  with  a  tone  of  some  spleen.  "  To  you  I  may  say 
it  ;  but  young  master  is  growing  worse  and  worse.  There  was  he 
driving  about  far  and  near  yesterday  ;  you  might  have  thought  he 
would  thank  God  for  a  Sunday  to  rest  in.  And  see,  if  he  does  not 
come  this  morning  before  daybreak,  rummages  about  in  the  stable, 
and  while  1  am  getting  up,  saddles  and  bridles  your  horse,  flings  him- 
self on  it  and  cries  :  '  Do  but  consider  the  good  work  I  am  doing  ! 
This  beast  keeps  jogging  on  at  a  staid  juridical  trot,  I  must  see  and 
rouse  him  into  a  smart  life-gallop.'  He  said  something  just  so,  and 
other  strange  speeches  besides." 

Lucidor  was  doubly  and  trebly  vexed  :  he  liked  the  horse  as  corres- 
ponding to  his  own  character,  his  own  mode  of  life  ;  it  grieved  him 
to  figure  this  good  sensible  beast  in  the  hands  of  a  madcap.  His  plan, 
too,  was  overturned  ;  his  purpose  of  flying  to  a  college  friend,  with 
whom  he  had  lived  in  cheerful,  cordial  union,  and  in  this  crisis  seek- 
ing refuge  beside  him.  His  old  confidence  had  been  awakened,  the 
intervening  miles  were  not  counted  ;  he  had  fancied  himself  already 
at  the  side  of  his  true-hearted  and  judicious  friend,  finding  counsel 
and  assuagement  from  his  words  and  looks.  This  prospect  was  now 
cut  off  :  yet  not  entirely,  if  he  could  venture  with  the  fresh  pedes- 
trian limbs,  which  still  stood  at  his  command,  to  set  forth  towards 
the  goal. 

First  of  all,  accordingly,  he  struck  through  the  park  ;  making  for 
the  open  country,  and  the  road  which  was  to  lead  him  to  his  friend. 


582  MEI8TEB'S  TRAVELS. 

Of  liis  direction  he  was  not  quite  certain,  when  looking  to  the  left, 
his  eye  fell  upon  the  hermitage,  which  had  hitherto  been  kept  secret 
from  him  ;  a  strange  edifice,  rising  with  grotesque  joinery  through 
bush  and  tree  :  and  here,  to  his  extreme  astonishment,  he  observed 
the  good  old  man,  who  for  some  days  had  been  considered  sick,  stand- 
ing in  the  gallery  under  the  Chinese  roof,  and  looking  blithely  through 
the  soft  morning.  Tlie  friendliest  salutation,  the  most  pressing  en- 
treaties to  come  up,  Lucidor  resisted  with  excuses  and  gestures  of 
haste.  Nothing  but  sympathy  with  the  good  old  man,  who,  hasten- 
ing down  with  infirm  step,  seemed  every  moment  in  danger  of  falling 
to  the  bottom,  could  induce  him  to  turn  thither,  and  then  suiler  him- 
self to  be  conducted  up.  With  surprise  he  entered  the  pretty  little 
hall  :  it  had  only  three  windows,  turned  towards  the  park  ;  a  most 
graceful  prospect  :  the  other  sides  were  decorated,  or  rather  covered, 
with  hundreds  of  portraits,  copperplate  or  painted,  which  were  fixed 
in  a  certain  order  to  the  wall,  and  separated  by  colored  borders  and 
interstices. 

"I  favor  you,  my  friend,  more  than  I  do  every  one ;  this  is  the 
sanctuary  in  which  I  peacefully  spend  my  last  days.  Here  I  recover 
myself  from  all  the  mistakes  which  society  tempts  me  to  commit  : 
here  my  dietetic  errors  are  corrected,  and  my  old  being  again  restored 
to  equilibrium." 

Lucidor  looked  over  the  place  ;  and  being  well  read  in  history  he 
easily  observed  that  a  historical  taste  had  presided  in  its  arrange- 
ment. 

"  Above,  there,  in  the  frieze,"  said  the  old  virtuoso,  "  you  will  find 
the  names  of  distinguished  men  in  the  primitive  ages  ;  then  those  of 
later  antiquity  ;  yet  still  only  their  names,  for  how  they  looked  would 
now  be  difficult  to  discover.  But  here,  in  the  main  field,  comes  my 
own  life  into  play  ;  here  are  the  men  whose  names  I  used  to  hear 
mentioned  in  my  boyhood.  For  some  fifty  years  or  so  the  name  of  a 
distinguished  man  continues  in  the  remembrance  of  the  people  ;  then 
it  vanishes,  or  becomes  fabulous.  Though  of  German  parentage,  I 
was  born  in  Holland  ;  and  for  me  William  of  Orange,  Stadtholder, 
and  King  of  England,  is  the  patriarch  of  all  common  great  men  and 
heroes. 

"Now,  close  by  William,  you  observe  Louis  Fourteenth  as  the 
person  who —  "  How  gladly  would  Lucidor  have  cut  short  the  good 
old  man,  had  it  but  been  permitted  him,  as  it  is  to  us  the  narrators  : 
for  the  whole  late  and  latest  history  of  the  world  seemed  impending ; 
as  from  the  portraits  of  Frederick  the  C}reat  and  his  generals,  towards 
which  he  was  glancing,  was  but  too  clearly  to  be  gathered. 

And  though  the  kindly  young  man  could  not  but  respect  his  old 
friend's  lively  sympathy  in  these  things,  or  deny  that  some  individual 
features  and  views  in  this  exhibitory  discourse  might  be  interesting  ; 
yet  at  college  he  had  heard  the  late  and  latest  history  of  Europe 
$ilready  ;  and  what  a  man  has  once  heard  he  fancies  himself  tp  know 


CSAPTER  XIX.  583 

foreveh  Lucidor's  thoughts  were  wandering  far  away  ;  he  heard 
not,  he  scarcely  saw  ;  and  was  just  on  the  point,  in  spite  of  all  polite- 
ness, of  flinging  himself  out,  and  tumbling  down  the  long  fatal  stair, 
when  a  loud  clapping  of  hands  was  heard  from  below. 

While  Jjucidor  restrained  his  movement,  the  old  man  looked  over 
through  the  window,  and  a  well-known  voice  resounded  from  be- 
neath :  "  Come  down,  for  Heaven's  sake,  out  of  your  historic  picture- 
gallery,  old  gentleman  !  Conclude  your  fasts  and  humiliations,  and 
help  me  to  appease  our  young  friend,  when  he  learns  it.  Lucidor's 
horse  I  have  ridden  somewhat  hard  ;  it  has  lost  a  shoe,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  leave  the  beast  behind  me.  What  will  he  say  ?  He  is  too 
absurd,  when  one  behaves  absurdly." 

"  Come  up  !  "  said  the  old  man,  and  turned  in  to  Lucidor  :  "  Now, 
what  say  you?"  Lucidor  was  silent,  and  the  wild  blade  entered. 
The  discussion  of  the  business  lasted  long  :  at  length  it  was  deter- 
DLined  to  dispatch  the  groom  forthwith,  that  he  might  seek  the  horse 
and  take  charge  of  it. 

Leaving  the  old  man,  the  two  younkers  hastened  to  the  house  ; 
Lucidor,  not  quite  unwillingly,  submitted  to  this  arrangement.  Come 
of  it  what  might,  within  these  walls  the  sole  wish  of  his  heart  was 
included.  In  such  desperate  cases  we  are,  at  any  rate,  cut  off  from 
the  assistance  of  our  free  will ;  and  we  feel  ourselves  relieved  for  a 
moment  when,  from  any  quarter,  direction  and  constraint  takes  hold 
of  us.  Yet,  on  entering  his  chamber,  he  found  himself  in  the 
strangest  mood  ;  like  a  man  who,  having  just  left  an  apartment  of 
an  inn,  is  forced  to  return  to  it,  by  the  breaking  of  an  axle. 

The  gay  younker  fell  upon  the  traveling-bag,  unpacked  it  all  in 
due  order,  especially  selecting  every  article  of  holiday  apparel,  which, 
though  only  on  the  traveling  scale,  was  to  be  foundt  here.  He  forced 
Lucidor  to  put  on  fresh  shoes  and  stockings  ;  he  dressed  for  him  his 
clustering  brown  locks,  and  decked  him  at  all  points  with  his  best 
skill.  Tlien  stepping  back,  and  surveying  our  friend  and  his  own 
handiwork  from  head  to  foot,  he  exclaimed  :  "  Now,  then,  my  good 
fellow,  you  do  look  like  a  man  that  has  some  pretensions  to  pretty 
damsels  ;  and  serious  enough,  moreover,  to  spy  about  you  for  a  bride. 
Wait  one  moment  !  You  shall  see  how  I  too  can  produce  myself 
when  the  hour  strikes.  This  knack  I  learned  from  your  military  offi- 
cers ;  the  girls  are  always  glancing  at  them  ;  so  I  likewise  have 
enrolled  myself  among  a  certain  soldiery  ;  and  now  they  look  at  me 
too,  and  look  again,  and  no  soul  of  them  knows  what  to  make  of  it. 
And  so,  from  this  looking  and  relooking,  from  this  surprise  and 
attention,  a  pretty  enough  result  now  and  then  arises  ;  which,  though 
it  were  not  lasting,  is  worth  enjoying  for  the  moment. 

"  But,  come  along,  my  friend,  and  do  the  like  service  for  me  ! 
When  you  have  seen  me  case  myself  by  piecemeal  in  my  equipment, 
you  will  not  say  that  wit  and  invention  have  been  denied  me."  He 
now  led  his  friend  through  .several  long,  .spacious  passages  of  the  old 


584  MEIStER'S  TRAVEL8. 

castle.  "  I  have  quite  nestled  myself  here,"  cried  he.  "Though  I 
care  not  for  hiding,  I  like  to  be  alone  ;  you  can  do  no  good  with  other 
people." 

They  were  passing  by  the  oflBce  rooms,  just  as  a  servant  came  out 
with  a  patriarchal  writing  apparatus,  black,  massive  and  complete  ; 
paper,  too,  was  not  forgotten. 

"  I  know  what  is  to  be  blotted  here  again,"  cried  the  younker  ;  "  go 
thy  ways,  and  leave  me  the  key.  Take  a  look  of  the  place,  Lucidor  ; 
it  will  amuse  you  till  I  am  dressed.  To  a  friend  of  justice,  such  ; 
spot  is  not  odious,  as  to  a  tamer  of  horses."  And  with  this  he  pushed 
Lucidor  into  the  hall  of  judgment. 

Lucidor  felt  himself  directly  in  a  well-known  and  friendly  element ; 
he  thought  of  the  days  when  he,  fixed  down  to  business,  had  sat  at 
such  a  table ;  and  listening  and  writing,  had  trained  himself  to  his 
art.  Nor  did  he  fail  to  observe,  that  in  this  case  an  old  stately  domes- 
tic chapel  had,  under  the  change  of  religious  ideas,  been  converted  to 
the  service  of  Themis.  In  the  repositories  he  found  some  titles  and 
acts  already  familiar  to  him  ;  in  these  very  matters  he  had  co-operated, 
while  laboring  in  the  capital.  Opening  a  bundle  of  papers,  there 
came  into  his  hands  a  rescript  which  he  himself  had  dictated  ;  another 
of  which  he  had  been  the  originator.  Handwriting  and  paper,  signet 
and  president's  signature,  everything  recalled  to  him  that  season  of 
judicial  effort,  of  youthful  hope.  And  here,  when  he  looked  round, 
and  saw  the  oberamtmann's  chair,  appointed  and  intended  for  him- 
self ;  so  fair  a  place,  so  dignified  a  circle  of  activity,  which  he  was 
now  like  to  cast  away  and  utterly  lose,  all  this  oppressed  him  doubly 
and  trebly,  as  the  form  of  Lucinda  seemed  to  retire  from  him  at  the 
same  time. 

He  turned  to  go  out  into  the  open  air,  but  found  himself  a  prisoner. 
His  gay  friend,  heedlessly  or  roguishly,  had  left  the  door  locked. 
Lucidor,  however,  did  not  long  continue  in  this  durance  ;  for  the 
other  returned,  apologized  for  his  oversight,  and  really  called  forth 
good  humor  by  his  singular  appearance.  A  certain  audacity  of  color 
and  cut  in  his  clothes  was  softened  by  natural  taste,  as  even  to  tat- 
tooed Indians  we  refuse  not  a  certain  approbation.  "To-day,"  cried 
he,  "  the  tedium  of  bygone  days  shall  be  made  good  to  us.  Worthy 
friends,  merry  friends  are  come  ;  pretty  girls,  roguish  and  fond  ;  and 
my  father  to  boot ;  and  wonder  on  wonder  !  your  father,  too.  This 
will  be  a  festival  truly  ;  they  are  all  assembled  for  breakfast  in  the 
parlor." 

With  Lucidor,  at  this  piece  of  information,  it  was  as  if  he  were 
looking  into  deep  fog  ;  all  the  figures,  known  and  unknown,  which 
tlie  words  announced  to  him,  assumed  a  spectral  aspect  ;  yet  his  reso- 
lution, and  the  consciousness  of  a  pure  heart,  sustained  him,  and,  in 
a  few  seconds,  he  felt  himself  prepared  for  everything.  He  followed 
his  hastening  friend  with  a  steady  step,  firmly  determined  to  await 
the  issue,  be  what  it  might,  and  explain  his  own  purposes,  come  what 
come  roight. 


CHAPTER  XIX.  585 

And  yet,  at  the  very  threshold  of  the  hall,  he  was  struck  with  some 
alarm.  In  a  large  half-circle,  ranged  round  by  the  windows,  he  im- 
mediately descried  his  father  \vitli  the  oberamtmann,  both  splendidly 
attired.  The  two  sisters,  Antoni,  and  others  known  and  unknown, 
he  hurried  over  with  a  glance,  which  was  threatening  to  grow  dim. 
Half-waveriug,  he  approached  his  father  ;  who  bade  him  welcome 
with  the  utmost  kindness,  yet  in  a  certain  style  of  formality  which 
scarcely  invited  any  trustful  application.  Standing  before  so  many 
persons,  he  looked  round  to  find  a  place  among  them  for  a  moment  : 
he  might  have  arranged  himself  beside  Lucinda  ;  but  Julia,  contrary 
to  the  rigor  of  etiquette,  made  room  for  him,  so  that  he  was  forced  to 
step  to  her  side.     Antoni  continued  by  Lucinda. 

At  this  important  moment,  Lucidor  again  felt  as  if  he  were  a  dele- 
gate ;  and,  steeled  by  his  whole  juridical  science,  he  called  up  in  his 
own  favor  the  fine  maxim  :  That  we  should  transact  afEairs  delegated 
to  us  by  a  stranger,  as  if  they  were  our  own  ;  why  not  our  own,  there- 
fore, in  the  same  spirit  ?  Well  practiced  in  official  orations,  he  speed- 
ily ran  over  what  he  had  to  say.  But  the  company,  ranged  in  a 
formal  semi-circle,  seemed  to  outflank  him.  The  purport  of  his 
speech  he  knew  well ;  the  beginning  of  it  he  could  not  find.  At  this 
crisis,  he  observed  on  the  table,  in  the  corner,  the  large  ink-glass, 
and  several  clerks  sitting  round  it ;  the  oberamtmann  made  a  move- 
ment as  if  to  solicit  attention  for  a  speech  ;  Lucidor  wished  to  antici- 
pate him  ;  and,  at  that  very  moment,  Julia  pressed  his  hand.  This 
threw  him  out  of  all  self-possession  ;  convinced  him  that  all  was 
decided,  all  lost  for  him. 

With  the  whole  of  these  negotiations,  these  family  alliances,  with 
social  conventions  anoL  rules  of  good  manners,  he  had  now  nothing 
more  to  do  ;  he  snatched  his  hand  from  Julia's,  and  vanished  so  rap- 
idly from  the  room,  that  the  company  lost  him  unawares,  and  he  out 
of  doors  could  not  find  himself  again. 

Shrinking  from  the  light  of  day,  which  shone  down  upon  him  in 
its  highest  splendor  ;  avoiding  the  eyes  of  men  ;  dreading  search  and 
pursuit,  he  hurried  forwards,  and  reached  the  large  garden  hall. 
Here  his  knees  were  like  to  fail  him  ;  he  rushed  in,  and  threw  him- 
self, utterly  comfortless,  upon  the  sofa  beneath  the  mirror.  Amid 
the  polished  arrangements  of  society,  to  be  caught  in  such  unspeak- 
able perplexity  !  It  dashed  to  and  fro  like  waves  about  him  and 
within  him.  His  past  existence  was  struggling  with  his  present ;  it 
was  a  frightful  moment. 

And  so  he  lay  for  a  time,  with  his  face  hid  in  the  cushion,  on  which 
last  night  Lucinda's  arm  had  rested.  Altogether  sunk  in  his  sorrow, 
he  had  heard  no  footsteps  approach  ;  feeling  some  one  touch  him,  he 
started  up,  and  perceived  Lucinda  standing  by  his  side. 

Fancying  they  had  sent  her  to  bring  him  back,  had  commissioned 
her  to  lead  him  with  fit  sisterly  words  into  the  assemblage  to  front 
his  hated  doom,  he  exclaimed  ;  "  You  they  should  not  have  sent,  Lu- 


586  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

cinda ;  for  it  was  you  that  drove  me  away.  I  will  not  return.  Give 
me,  if  you  are  capable  of  any  pity,  procure  my  convenience  and 
means  of  flight.  For,  that  you  yourself  may  testify  how  impossible 
it  was  to  bring  me  back,  listen  to  the  explanation  of  my  conduct, 
which  to  you  and  all  of  them  must  seem  insane.  Hear  now  the  oath 
which  I  have  sworn  in  my  soul,  and  which  I  incessantly  repeat  in 
words  :  with  you  only  did  I  wish  to  live  ;  with  you  to  enjoy,  to  em- 
ploy my  days,  from  youth  to  old  age,  in  true  honorable  union.  And 
let  this  be  as  firm  and  sure  as  aught  ever  sworn  before  the  altar  ;  this 
which  I  now  swear,  now  when  I  leave  you,  the  most  pitable  of  all 
men." 

He  made  a  movement  to  glide  past  her,  as  she  stood  close  before 
him  ;  but  she  caught  him  softly  in  her  arms.  ' '  What  is  this  ? " 
exclaimed  he. 

"  Lucidor  !  "  cried  she,  "  not  pitiable  as  you  think  ;  you  are  mine,  I 
am  yours ;  I  hold  you  in  my  arms  ;  delay  not  to  throw  your  arms 
about  me.     Your  father  has  agreed  to  all ;  Antoni  marries  my  sister." 

In  astonishment  he  recoiled  from  her.  ' '  Can  it  be  ? "  Lucinda 
smiled  and  nodded  ;  he  drew  back  from  her  arms.  "  Let  me  view 
once  more,  at  a  distance,  what  is  to  be  mine  so  nearly,  so  insepa- 
rably?"    He  grasped  her  hands.      "  Lucinda,  are  you  mine?" 

She  answexed  :  "  Well,  then,  yes  ;"  the  sweetest  tears  in  the  truest 
eyes  ;  he  clasped  her  to  his  breast,  and  threw  his  head  behind  hers  ; 
he  hung  like  a  shipwrecked  mariner  on  the  cliffs  of  the  coast ;  the 
ground  still  shook  under  him.  And  now  his  enraptured  eye,  again 
opening,  lighted  on  the  mirror.  He  saw  her  there  in  his  arms,  him- 
self clasped  in  hers  ;  he  looked  down,  and  again  to  the  image.  Such 
emotions  accompany  man  throughout  his  life.  In  the  mirror,  also, 
he  beheld  the  landscape,  which  last  night  had  appeared  to  him  so 
baleful  and  ominous,  now  lying  fairer  and  brighter  than  ever  ;  and 
himself  in  such  a  posture,  on  such  a  background  !  Abundant  recom- 
pense for  all  sorrows  ! 

"  We  are  not  alone,"  said  Lucinda  ;  and  scarcely  had  he  recovered 
from  his  rapture,  when,  all  decked  and  garlanded,  a  company  of  girls 
and  boys  came  forward,  carrying  wreaths  of  flowers,  and  crowding 
the  entrance  of  the  hall.  "  This  is  not  the  way,"  cried  Lucinda. 
"  How  prettily  it  was  arranged  and  now  it  is  all  running  into  tumult  !  " 
A  gay  march  sounded  from  a  distance  ;  and  the  company  were  seen 
coming  on.  by  the  large  road  in  stately  procession.  Lucidor  hesitated 
to  advance  towards  them  ;  only  on  her  arm  did  he  seem  certain  of  his 
steps.  She  stayed  beside  him,  expecting  from  moment  to  moment 
the  solemn  scene  of  meeting,  of  thanks  for  pardon  already  given. 

But  by  the  capricious  gods  it  was  otherwise  determined.  The  gay 
clanging  sound  of  a  postilion's  horn,  from  the  opposite  side,  seemed 
to  throw  the  whole  ceremony  into  rout.  "Who  can  be  coming?" 
cried  Lucinda.  The  thought  of  a  strange  presence  was  frightful  to 
Lucidor ;  aad  the  carriage  seemed  entirely  unknown  to  him,    A 


\CHAPTER  XIX.  587 

double-seated,  new,  spick-and-span  new  traveling  chaise  1  It  rolled 
up  to  the  hall.  A  well-dressed,  handsome  boy  sprang  down  ;  opened 
the  door  ;  but  no  one  dismounted  ;  the  chaise  was  empty.  The  boy 
stepped  into  it ;  with  a  dexterous  touch  or  two  he  threw  back  the 
tilts  ;  and  there,  in  a  twinkling,  stood  the  daintiest  vehicle  in  readi- 
ness for  the  gayest  drive,  before  the  eyes  of  the  whole  party,  who 
were  now  advancing  to  the  spot.  Antoni,  out-hastening  the  rest,  led 
Julia  to  the  carriage.  "  Try  if  this  machine,"  said  he,  "  will  please 
you  ;  if  you  can  sit  in  it,  and  over  the  smoothest  roads,  roll  through 
the  world  beside  me  :  I  will  lead  you  by  no  other  but  the  smoothest  ; 
and  when  a  strait  comes,  we  shall  know  how  to  help  ourselves.  Over 
the  mountains  sumpters  shall  carry  us,  and  our  coach  also." 

"  You  are  a  dear  creature  !"  cried  Julia.  The  boy  came  forward  ; 
and  with  the  quickness  of  a  conjurer,  exhibited  all  the  conveniences, 
little  advantages,  comforts  and  celerities  of  the  whole  light  edifice. 

"On  earth  I  have  no  thanks,"  cried  Julia;  "but  from  this  little 
moving  heaven,  from  this  cloud,  into  which  you  raise  me,  I  will 
heartily  thank  you."  She  had  already  bounded  in,  throwing  him 
kind  looks  and  a  kiss  of  the  hand.  "  For  the  present  you  come  not 
hither  ;  but  there  is  another  whom  I  mean  to  take  along  with  me  in 
this  proof  excursion  ;  he  himself  has  still  a  proof  to  undergo."  She 
called  Lucidor  ;  who,  just  then  occupied  in  mute  conversation  with 
his  father  and  father-in-law,  willingly  took  refuge  in  the  light  vehi- 
cle ;  feeling  an  irresistible  necessity  to  dissipate  his  thoughts  in  some 
way  or  other,  though  it  were  but  for  a  moment.  He  placed  himself 
beside  her  ;  she  directed  the  postilion  where  he  was  to  drive.  In- 
stantly they  darted  off,  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  dust ;  and  vanished 
from  the  eyes  of  the  amazed  spectators. 

Julia  fixed  herself  in  the  corner  as  firmly  and  commodiously  as  she 
could  wish.  "  Now  do  you  shift  into  that  one  too,  good  brother  ;  so 
that  we  may  look  each  other  rightly  in  the  face." 

Lucidor.  You  feel  my  confusion,  my  embarrassment ;  I  am  still  as 
if  in  a  dream  ;  help  me  out  of  it. 

Julia.  Look  at  these  gay  peasants,  how  kindly  they  salute  us  ! 
You  have  never  seen  the  upper  hamlet  yet,  since  you  came  hither. 
All  good  substantial  people  there,  and  all  thoroughly  devoted  to  me. 
No  one  of  them  so  rich  that  you  cannot,  by  a  time,  do  a  little  kind 
service  to  him.  This  road,  which  we  whirl  along  so  smoothly,  is  my 
father's  doing  ;  another  of  his  benefits  to  the  community. 

Lucidor.  I  believe  it,  and  willingly  admit  it  ;  but  what  have  these 
external  things  to  do  with  the  perplexity  of  my  internal  feelings  ? 

Julia.  Patience  a  little  !  I  will  show  you  the  riches  of  this  world 
and  the  glory  thereof.  Here  now  we  are  at  the  top.  Do  but  look 
how  clear  the  level  country  lies  all  round  us  leaning  against  the 
mountains  1  All  these  villages  are  much,  much  indebted  to  my 
father  ;  to  mother  and  daughters  too.  The  grounds  of  yon  little 
hamlet  are  the  border. 


58^  MMSTER' 8  TRAVELS. 

Lucidor.  Surely  you  are  in  a  very  strange  mood  ;  you  do  not  seeiri 
to  be  saying  what  you  meant  to  say. 

Julia.  But  now  look  down  to  the  left  ;  how  beautifully  all  this  un- 
folds itself  !  The  church,  with  its  high  lindens  ;  the  amthaus,  with 
its  poplars,  behind  the  village  knoll  I  Here,  too,  are  the  garden  and 
the  park. 

The  postilion  drove  faster. 

Julia.  The  hall  up  yonder  you  know  ;  it  looks  almost  as  well  here, 
as  this  scene  does  from  it.  Here,  at  the  tree,  we  shall  stop  a  moment ; 
now  in  this  very  spot  our  image  is  reflected  in  the  large  mirror  ;  there 
they  see  us  full  well,  but  we  cannot  see  ourselves. — Go  along,  postil- 
ion !  There,  some  little  while  ago,  two  people,  I  believe,  were  re- 
flected at  a  shorter  distance  ;  and,  if  I  am  not  exceedingly  mistaken, 
to  their  great  mutual  satisfaction. 

Lucidor,  in  ill  humor,  answered  nothing  :  they  went  on  for  some 
time  in  silence,  driving  very  hard.  "  Here,"  said  Julia,  "the  bad 
road  begins  :  a  service  left  for  you  to  do  some  day.  Before  we  go 
lower,  look  down  once  more.  My  mother's  box-tree  rises  with  its 
royal  summit  over  all  the  rest.  Thou  wilt  drive,"  continued  she  to 
the  postilion,  "  down  this  rough  road  ;  we  shall  take  the  footpath 
through  the  dale,  and  so  be  sooner  at  the  other  side  than  thou."  In 
dismounting  she  cried  :  "  Well,  now,  you  will  confess,  the  Wander- 
ing Jew,  this  restless  Antoni  the  traveler,  can  arrange  his  pilgrim- 
ages prettily  enough  for  himself  and  his  companions  :  it  is  a  very 
beautiful  and  commodious  carriage." 

And  with  this  she  tripped  away  down  hill  ;  Lucidor  followed  her, 
in  deep  thought  ;  she  was  sitting  on  a  pleasant  seat ;  it  was  Lucin- 
da's  little  spot.     She  invited  him  to  sit  by  her. 

Julia.  So  now  we  are  sitting  here,  and  one  is  nothing  to  the  other. 
Thus  it  was  destined  to  be.  The  little  quicksilver  would  not  suit 
you.     Love  it  you  could  not,  it  was  hateful  to  you. 

Lucidor's  astonishment  increased. 

Julia.  But  Lucinda,  indeed  !  She  is  the  paragon  of  all  perfections  ; 
and  the  pretty  sister  was  once  for  all  cast  out.  I  see  it,  the  question 
hovers  on  your  lips  ;  who  has  told  us  all  so  accurately  ? 

Lucidor.  There  is  treachery  in  it ! 

Julia.  Yes,  truly  !     There  has  been  a  traitor  at  work  in  the  matter. 

Lucidor.  Name  him. 

Julia.  He  is  soon  unmasked.  You  !  You  have  the  praiseworthy 
or  blameworthy  custom  of  talking  to  yourself  :  and  now,  in  the  name 
of  all,  I  must  confess  that  in  turn  we  have  overheard  you. 

Lucidor  (starting  up).  A  sorry  piece  of  hospitality,  to  lay  snares 
for  a  stranger  in  this  way  ! 

Julia.  By  no  means  !  We  thought  not  of  watching  you  more  than 
any  other.  But,  you  know,  your  bed  stands  in  the  recess  of  the  wall : 
on  the  opposite  side  is  another  alcove,  commonly  employed  for  laying 
up  household  articles.     Hither,  some  days  before,  we  had  shifted  our 


CSAPTER  XIX.  589 

old  man's  bed  ;  being  anxious  about  liim  in  his  remote  hennitage  : 
and  here,  the  first  night,  you  started  some  such  passionate  soliloquy, 
which  he  next  morning  took  his  opportunity  of  rehearsing. 

Lucidor  had  not  the  heart  to  interrupt  her.     He  withdrew. 

Julia  (rising  and  following  him).  What  a  service  this  discovery 
did  us  all  !  For  I  will  confess,  if  you  were  not  positively  disagreea- 
ble, the  situation  which  awaited  me  was  not  by  any  means  to  my 
mind.  To  be  Frau  Oberamtmannin,  what  a  dreadful  state  !  To  have 
a  brave  gallant  husband,  who  is  to  pass  judgment  on  the  people  ; 
and,  for  sheer  judgment,  cannot  get  to  justice  !  Who  can  please 
neither  high  nor  low  ;  and,  what  is  worst,  not  even  himself  !  1  know 
what  my  poor  mother  suffered  from  the  incorruptibility,  the  inflexi- 
bility of  my  father.  At  last,  indeed,  but  not  till  her  death,  a  certain 
meekness  took  possession  of  him  :  he  seemed  to  suit  himself  to  the 
world,  to  make  a  truce  with  those  evils  which,  till  then,  he  had 
vainly  striven  to  conquer. 

Lucidor  (stopping  short  ;  extremely  discontented  with  the  inci- 
dent ;  vexed  at  this  light  mode  of  treating  it).  For  the  sport  of  an 
evening  this  might  pass  ;  but  to  practice  such  a  disgracing  mystifica- 
tion day  and  night  against  an  unsuspicious  stranger  is  not  pardon- 
able. 

Julia.  We  are  all  equally  deep  in  the  crime  ;  we  all  hearkened 
you  :  yet  I  alone  pay  the  penalty  of  eavesdropping  ! 

Lucidor.  All  !  So  much  the  more  unpardonable  !  And  how  could 
you  look  at  me,  throughout  the  day,  without  blushing,  whom  at 
night  you  were  so  contemptuously  overreaching  ?  But  I  see  clearly 
with  a  glance  that  your  arrangements  by  day  were  planned  to  make 
mockery  of  me.  A  fine  family  !  And  where  was  your  father's  love 
of  justice  all  this  while  ? — And  Lucinda  ! — 

Julia.  And  Lucinda  !  What  a  tone  was  that  !  You  meant  to  say, 
did  you  not,  how  deeply  it  grieved  your  heart  to  think  ill  of  Lucinda, 
to  rank  her  in  a  class  with  the  rest  of  us  ? 

Lucidor.  I  cannot  understand  Lucinda. 

Julia.  In  other  words,  this  pure  noble  soul,  this  peacefully  com- 
posed nature,  benevolence,  goodness  itself,  this  woman  as  she  should 
be,  unites  with  a  light-minded  company,  with  a  freakish  sister,  a 
spoiled  brother,  and  certain  mysterious  persons  !  That  is  incompre- 
hensible ! 

Lucidor.  Yes,  indeed,  it  is  incoiliprehensible. 

Julia.  Comprehend  it  then  !  Lucinda,  like  the  rest  of  us,  had  her 
hands  bound.  Could  you  have  seen  her  perplexity,  how  fain  she 
would  have  told  you  all,  how  often  she  was  on  the  very  eve  of  doing 
it,  you  would  now  love  her  doubly  and  trebly,  if  indeed  true  love 
were  not  always  tenfold  and  hundredfold  of  itself.  I  can  assure  you, 
moreover,  that  all  of  us  at  length  thought  the  joke  too  long. 

Lucidor.  Why  did  you  not  end  it,  then  ? 

Julia,  That,  too,  I  must  explain.     No  sooner  had  my  father  got 


590  MEI8TER' 8  TRAVELS. 

intelligence  of  your  first  monologue,  and  seen,  as  was  easy  to  do,  that 
none  of  his  children  would  object  to  such  an  exchange,  than  he  de- 
termined on  visiting  your  father.  The  importance  of  the  business  gave 
him  much  anxiety.  A  father  alone  can  feel  the  respect  which  is  due  to 
a  father.  '  He  must  be  informed  of  it  in  the  first  place,"  said  mine, 
"  that  he  may  not  in  the  end,  when  we  are  all  agreed,  be  reduced  to 
give  a  forced  and  displeased  consent.  I  know  him  well  ;  I  know  how 
any  thought,  any  wish,  any  purpose  cleaves  to  him;  and  I  have  my  own 
fears  about  the  issue.  Julia,  his  maps  and  pictures,  he  has  long 
viewed  as  one  thing  :  he  has  it  in  his  eye  to  transport  all  this  hither, 
when  the  young  pair  are  once  settled  here,  and  his  old  pupil  cannot 
change  her  abode  so  readily  ;  on  us  he  is  to  bestow  his  holidays  ;  and 
who  knows  what  other  kind  friendly  things  he  has  projected.  He 
must  forthwith  be  informed  what  a  trick  nature  has  played  us,  while 
yet  nothing  is  declared,  nothing  is  determined."  And  with  this  he 
exacted  from  us  all  the  most  solemn  promise  that  we  should  ob.serve 
you,  and,  come  what  might,  retain  you  here  till  his  return.  How 
this  retur)!  has  been  protracted  ;  what  art,  toil  and  perseverance  it 
has  cost  to  gain  your  father's  consent,  he  himself  will  inform  you. 
In  short,  the  business  is  adjusted  :  Luciuda  is  yours. 

And  thus  had  the  two  promenaders,  sharply  removing  from  their 
first  resting-place,  then  pausing  by  the  way,  then  speaking  and  walk- 
ing slowly  through  the  green  fields,  at  last  reached  the  height,  where 
another  well-leveled  road  received  them.  The  carriage  came  whirl- 
ing up  :  Julia  in  the  meanwhile  turned  her  friend's  attention  to  a 
strange  sight.  The  whole  machinery,  of  which  her  gay  brother  had 
bragged  so  much,  was  now  alive  and  in  motion  ;  the  wheels  were 
already  heaving  up  and  down  a  multitude  of  people  ;  the  see-saws 
were  flying  ;  May-poles  had  their  climbers  ;  and  many  a  bold  artful 
swing  and  spring  over  the  heads  of  an  innumerable  multitude  you 
might  see  ventured.  The  younker  had  set  all  a-going,  that  so  the 
guests,  after  dinner,  might  have  a  gay  spectacle  awaiting  them. 
"Thou  wilt  drive  through  the  nether  hamlet,"  cried  Julia;  "the 
people  wish  me  well,  and  they  shall  see  how  well  I  am  off." 

The  hamlet  was  empty  :  the  young  people  had  all  run  to  the  swings 
and  see-saws  ;  old  men  and  women,  roused  by  the  driver's  horn,  ap- 
peared at  doors  and  windows  ;  every  one  gave  salutations  and  bless- 
ings, exclaiming  :  "0  what  a  lovely  pair  ! " 

Julia.  There,  do  you  hear  ?  We  sliould  have  suited  well  enough 
together,  after  all  ;  you  may  rue  it  yet. 

Lucidor.  But  now,  dear  sister  ! 

Julia.   Ha  !  Now  dear,  when  you  are  rid  of  me  ? 

Lucidor  One  single  word  !  On  you  rests  a  heavy  accusation  :  what 
did  you  mean  by  that  squeeze  of  the  hand,  when  you  knew  and  felt 
my  dreadful  situation?  A  thing  so  radically  wicked  I  have  never  met 
with  in  my  life  before. 

Julia.  "Thank  Heaven  we  are  now  quits  ;  now  all  is  pardoned.     I 


CHAPTER  XX.  591 

had  no  mind  for  you,  that  is  certain  ;  but  that  you  had  utterly  and 
absohitely  no  mind  for  me,  this  Avas  a  thing  which  no  young  woman 
could  forgive  ;  and  the  squeeze  of  the  hand,  observe  you,  was  for  the 
rogue.  I  do  confess,  it  was  almost  too  roguish  ;  and  I  forgive  myself, 
because  I  forgive  you ;  and  so  let  all  be  forgotten  and  forgiven.  Here 
is  my  hand. 

He  took  it  ;  she  cried  :  "  Here  we  are  again  !  In  our  park  again  ; 
and  so  in  a  trice  we  whirl  through  the  wide  world,  and  back  too  ;  we 
shall  meet  again." 

They  had  reached  the  garden  hall  ;  it  seemed  empty  ;  the  com- 
pany, tired  of  waiting,  had  gone  out  to  walk.  Antoni,  however,  and 
Lucinda,  came  forth.  Julia,  stepping  from  the  carriage,  flew  to  her 
friend  ;  she  thanked  him  in  a  cordial  embrace,  and  restrained  not  the 
most  joyful  tears.  The  brave  man's  cheeks  reddened,  his  features 
looked  forth  unfolded  ;  his  eye  glanced  moist,  and  a  fair  imposing 
youth  shone  through  the  veil. 

And  so  both  pairs  moved  off  to  join  the  company,  with  feelings 
which  the  finest  dream  could  not  have  given  them. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


"  Thus,  my  friends,"  said  Lenardo,  after  a  short  preamble,  "  if  we 
survey  the  most  populous  provinces  and  kingdoms  of  the  firm  earth, 
we  observe  on  all  sides  that  wherever  an  available  soil  appears,  it  is 
cultivated,  planted,  shaped,  beautified  ;  and  in  the  same  proportion, 
coveted,  taken  into  possession,  fortified  and  defended.  Hereby  we 
bring  home  to  our  conceptions  the  high  worth  of  property  in  land  ; 
and  are  obliged  to  consider  it  as  the  first  and  best  acquirement  that 
can  be  allotted  to  man.  And  if  on  closer  inspection  we  find  parental 
and  filial  love,  the  union  of  countrymen  and  toAvnsmen,  and  therefore 
the  universal  feeling  of  patriotism,  founded  immediately  on  this  same 
interest  in  the  soil,  we  cannot  but  regard  that  seizing  and  retaining 
of  space,  in  the  great  or  the  small  scale,  as  a  thing  still  more  impor- 
tant and  venerable.  Yes,  Xattire  herself  has  so  ordered  it !  A  man 
born  on  the  glebe  comes  by  habit  to  belong  to  it ;  the  two  grow 
together,  and  the  fairest  ties  are  spun  from  their  union.  Who  is 
there,  then,  that  would  spitefully  disturb  this  foundation-stone  of  all 
existence  ;  that  would  blindly  deny  the  worth  and  dignity  of  such 
precious  and  peculiar  gifts  of  Heaven? 

"  And  yet  we  may  assert,  that  if  what  man  possesses  is  of  great 
worth,  wiiat  he  does  and  accomplishes  must  be  of  still  greater.  In  a 
wide  view  of  things,  therefore,  we  must  look  on  property  in  land  as 
one  small  part  of  the  possessions  that  have  been  given  us.     Of  these 


592  ME18TER' 8  TRAVELS, 

tlie  greatest  and  tlie  most  precious  part,  consists  especially  in  what  is 
movable,  and  in  what  is  gained  by  a  moving  life. 

' '  Towards  this  quarter,  we  younger  men  are  peculiarly  constrained 
to  turn  ;  for  though  we  had  inherited  from  our  fathers  the  desire  of 
abiding  and  continuing,  we  find  ourselves  called  by  a  thousand  causes 
nowise  to  shut  our  eyes  against  a  wider  outlook  and  survey.  Let  us 
hasten,  then,  to  the  shore  of  the  ocean,  and  convince  ourselves  what 
boundless  spaces  are  still  lying  open  to  activity  ;  and  confess  that,  by 
the  bare  thought  of  this,  we  are  roused  to  new  vigor. 

"  Yet,  not  to  lose  ourselves  in  these  vast  expanses,  let  us  direct  our 
attention  to  the  long  and  large  surface  of  so  many  countries  and 
kingdoms,  combined  together  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Here  we 
behold  great  tracts  of  land  tenanted  by  nomads  ;  whose  towns  are 
movable,  whose  life-supporting  household  goods  can  be  transferred 
from  place  to  place.  We  see  them  in  the  middle  of  the  deserts,  on 
wide,  green  pasturages,  lying  as  it  were  at  anchor  in  their  desired 
haven.  Such  movement,  such  wanderi-ng,  becomes  a  habit  with 
them,  a  necessity  ;  in  the  end  they  groAv  to  regard  the  surface  of  the 
world  as  if  it  were  not  bulwarked  by  mountains,  were  not  cut  asun- 
der by  streams.  Have  we  not  seen  the  northeast  flow  towards  the 
southwest,  one  people  driving  another  before  it,  and  lordship  and 
property  altogether  changed  ? 

"  From  over-populous  countries,  a  similar  calamity  may  again,  in 
the  great  circle  of  vicissitudes,  occur  more  than  once.  What  we  have 
to  dread  from  foreigners,  it  may  be  difficult  to  say  ;  but  it  is  curious 
enough,  that  by  our  own  over  population,  we  ourselves  are  thronging 
one  another  in  our  own  domains,  and  without  awaiting  to  be  driven, 
are  driving  one  another  forth,  passing  sentence  of  banishment  each 
against  his  fellow. 

' '  Here  now  is  the  place  and  season  for  giving  scope  in  qur  bosoms, 
without  spleen  or  anger,  to  a  love  of  movement ;  for  unfettering  that 
impatient  wish  which  excites  us  to  change  our  abode.  Yet,  what- 
ever we  may  purpose  and  intend,  let  it  be  accomplished  not  from 
passion,  or  from  any  other  influence  of  force,  but  from  a  conviction 
corresponding  to  the  wisest  judgment  and  deliberation. 
^  "It  has  been  said,  and  over  again  said  :  Where  I  am  well,  is  my 
country  !  But  this  consolatory  saw  were  better  worded  :  Where  I  am 
useful,  is  my  country  !  At  home,  you  may  be  useless,  and  the  fact 
not  instantly  observed  ;  abroad  in  the  world,  the  useless  man  is 
speedily  convicted.  And  now,  if  I  say  :  Let  each  endeavor  every- 
where to  be  of  use  to  himself  and  others,  this  is  not  a  precept,  or  a 
counsel,  but  the  utterance  of  life  itself. 

"  Cast  a  glance  over  the  terrestrial  ball,  and  for  the  present  leave 
the  ocean  out  of  siglit  ;  let  not  its  hurrying  fleets  distract  your 
thoughts  ;  but  fix  your  eye  on  the  firm  earth,  and  be  amazed  to  see 
how  it  is  overflowed  with  a  swarming  ant-tribe,  jostling  and  crossing, 
and  running  to  and  fro  forever  ?    So  W9^s  it  ordained  of  the  Lord  him- 


CHAPTER  XX.  ,        593 

self,  when  obstructing  the  tower  of  Babel,  he  scattered  the  human 
race  abroad  into  all  the  world.  Let  us  praise  his  name  on  this  account, 
for  the  blessing  has  extended  to  all  generations. 

"  Observe  now,  and  cheerfully,  how  the  young,  on  every  side,  in- 
stantly get  into  movement.  As  instruction  is  not  offered  them  within 
doors,  and  knocks  not  at  their  gates,  they  hasten  forthwith  to  those 
countries  and  cities  whither  the  call  of  science  and  wisdom  allures 
them.  Here,  no  sooner  have  they  gained  a  rapid  and  scanty  training,' 
than  they  feel  themselves  impelled  to  look  round  in  the  world, 
whether  here  and  there  some  profitable  experience,  applicable  to  their 
objects,  may  not  be  met  with  and  appropriated.  Let  these  try 
their  fortune  !  We  turn  from  them  to  those  completed  and  dis- 
tinguished men,  those  noble  inquirers  into  nature,  who  wittingly 
encounter  every  difficulty,  every  peril,  that  to  the  world  they  may  lay 
the  world  open,  and,  through  the  most  impassable,  pave  easy  roads. 

"  But  observe  also,  on  beaten  highways,  how  dust  on  dust,  in  long 
cloudy  trains,  mounts  up,  betokening  the  track  of  commodious  top- 
laden  carriages,  in  which  the  rich,  the  noble,  and  so  many  others,  are 
whirled  along  ;  whose  varying  purposes  and  dispositions  Yorick  has 
most  daintily  explained  to  us. 

"  These  the  stout  craftsman,  on  foot,  may  cheerily  gaze  after  ;  for 
whom  his  country  has  made  it  a  duty  to  appropriate  foreign  skill,  and 
not  till  this  has  been  accomplished,  to  revisit  his  paternal  hearth.  In 
still  greater  numbers  do  traffickers  and  dealers  meet  us  on  our  road  ; 
the  little  trader  must  not  neglect,  from  time  to  time,  to  forsake  his 
shop,  that  he  may  visit  fairs  and  markets,  may  approach  the  great 
merchant,  and  increase  his  own  small  profit,  by  example  and  partici- 
pation of  the  boundless.  But  yet  more  restlessly  do  we  descry  cruis- 
ing on  horseback,  singly,  on  all  high  and  by  ways,  that  multitude  of 
persons  whose  business  it  is,  in  lawful  wise,  to  make  forcible  preten- 
sion to  our  purses.  Samples  of  all  sorts,  prize-catalogues,  invitations 
to  purchase,  pursue  us  into  town-houses  and  country-houses,  and 
wherever  we  may  seek  refuge  :  diligently  they  assault  us  and  sur- 
prise us  ;  themselves  offering  the  opportunity,  which  it  would  have 
entered  no  man's  mind  to  seek.  And  what  shall  I  say  of  that  people 
which,  before  all  others,  arrogates  to  itself  the  blessing  of  perpetual 
wandering,  and  by  its  movable  activity  contrives  to  overreach  the 
resting,  and  to  overstep  the  walking  ?  Of  them  we  must  say  neither 
ill  nor  good  ;  no  good,  because  our  league  stands  on  its  guard  against 
tliem  ;  no  ill,  because  the  wanderer,  mindful  of  reciprocal  advantage, 
is  bound  to  treat  with  friendliness  whomsoever  he  may  meet. 

"  But  now,  abov^e  all,  we  must  mention  with  peculiar  affection,  the 
whole  race  of  artists  ;  for  they,  too,  are  thoroughly  involved  in  this 
universal  movement.  Does  not  the  painter  wander,  with  pallet  and 
easel,  from  face  to  face  ;  and  are  not  his  kindred  laborers  summoned, 
now  this  way,  now  that,  because  in  all  places  there  is  something  to  be 
built  and  to  be  fashioned  1    More  briskly,  however,  paces  the  musi- 


:594  MEISTEB' 8  TRAVELS. 

cian  on  his  way  ;  for  be  peculiarly  it  is  that  for  a  new  ear  has  pro- 
vided new  surprise,  for  a  fresh  mind  fresh  astonishment.  Players, 
too,  though  they  now  despise  the  cart  of  Thespis,  still  rove  about  in 
little  choirs,  and  their  moving  world,  wherever  they  appear,  is  speedily 
enough  built  up.  So  likewise,  individually,  renouncing  serious  pro- 
fitable engagements,  these  men  delight  to  change  place  with  place, 
according  as  rising  talents,  combined  with  rising  wants,  furnish 
pretext  and  occasion.  For  this  success  they  commonly  prepare 
themselves,  by  leaving  no  important  stage  in  their  native  land  un- 
trodden. 

"  Nor  let  us  forget  to  cast  a  glance  over  the  professorial  class  : 
these,  too,  you  find  in  continual  motion,  occupying  and  forsaking  one 
chair  after  the  other,  to  scatter  richly  abroad  on  every  side  the  seeds 
of  a  hasty  culture.  More  assiduous,  however,  and  of  wider  aim,  are 
those  pious  souls  who  disperse  themselves  through  all  quarters  of  the 
world,  to  bring  salvation  to  their  brethren.  Others,  on  the  contrary, 
are  pilgriming  to  seek  salvation  for  themselves  :  they  march  in  hosts 
to  consecrated,  wonder-working  places,  there  to  ask  and  receive  what 
was  denied  their  souls  at  home. 

' '  And  if  all  these  sorts  of  men  surprise  us  less  by  their  wandering, 
as  for  most  part,  without  wandering,  the  business  of  their  life  were 
impossible,  of  those  again  who  dedicate  their  diligence  to  the  soil,  we 
should  certainly  expect  that  they,  at  least,  were  fixed.  By  no  means  ! 
Even  without  possession,  occupation  is  conceivable  ;  and  we  behold  the 
eager  farmer  forsaking  the  ground  which  for  years  has  yielded  him 
profit  and  enjoyment ;  impatiently  he  searches  after  similar  or  greater 
profit,  be  it  far  or  near.  Nay,  the  owner  himself  will  abandon  his 
new-grubbed  clearage  so  soon  as,  by  his  cultivation,  he  has  rendered 
it  commodious  for  a  less  enterprising  husbandman  ;  once  more  he 
presses  into  the  wilderness  ;  again  makes  space  for  himself  in  the 
forests  ;  in  recompense  of  that  first  toiling,  a  double  and  treble  space  ; 
on  which  also,  it  may  be,  he  thinks  not  to  continue. 

"There  we  shall  leave  him,  bickering  with  bears  and  other  mon- 
sters ;  and  turn  back  into  the  polished  world,  where  we  find  the  state 
of  things  no  whit  more  stationary.  Do  but  view  any  great  and  regu- 
lated kingdom  ;  the  ablest  man  is  also  the  man  who  moves  the  often- 
est ,  at  the  beck  of  his  prince,  at  the  order  of  his  minister,  the  service- 
able is  transferred  from  place  to  place.  To  him  also  our  preceist  will 
apply  :  everywhere  endeavor  to  be  useful,  everywhere  you  are  at  home. 
Yet  if  we  observe  important  statesmen  leaving,  though  reluctantly, their 
high  stations,  we  have  reason  to  deplore  their  fate  ;  for  we  can  neither 
recognize  them  as  emigrators  nor  as  migrators  ;  not  as  emigrators, 
because  they  forego  a  covetable  situation  without  any  prospect  of  a 
better  even  seeming  to  open  ;  not  as  migrators,  because  to  be  useful 
in  other  places  is  a  fortun-e  seldom  granted  them. 

"  For  the  soldier,  again,  a  life  of  peculiar  wandering  is  appointed  ; 
even  in  peace,  now  this,  now  that  post  is  intrusted  to  him  ;  to  fight, 


CHAPTER  XX.  595 

at  hand  or  afar  off  for  liis  native  country,  he  must  keep  himself  per- 
petually in  motion  or  readiness  to  move  ;  and  not  for  immediate 
defense  alone,  but  also  to  fulfill  the  remote  purposes  of  nations  and 
rulers,  he  turns  his  steps  towards  all  quarters  of  the  world  ;  and  to 
few  of  his  craft  is  it  given  to  find  any  resting-place.  And  as,  in  the 
soldier,  courage  is  his  first  and  highest  quality,  so  this  must  always 
be  considered  as  united  with  fidelity  ;  and  accordingly  we  find  certain 
nations,  famous  for  trustworthiness,  called  forth  from  their  home, 
and  serving  spiritual  or  temporal  regents  as  body-guards. 

"  Another  class  of  persons  indispensable  to  governments,  and  also 
of  extreme  mobility,  we  see  in  those  negotiators,  who,  dispatched 
from  court  to  court,  beleaguer  princes  and  ministers,  and  overnet  the 
whole  inhabited  world  with  their  invisible  threads.  Of  these  men 
also,  no  one  is  certain  of  his  place  for  a  moment.  In  peace,  the  ablest 
of  them  are  sent  from  country  to  country  ;  in  war,  they  march  behind 
the  army  when  victorious,  prepare  the  way  for  it  when  fugitive  ;  and 
thus  are  they  appointed  still  to  be  changing  place  for  place  ;  on  which 
account,  indeed,  they  at  all  times  carry  with  them  a  stock  of  farewell 
cards. 

"  If  hitherto  at  every  step  we  have  contrived  to  do  ourselves  some 
honor,  declaring  as  we  have  done  the  most  distinguished  portion  of 
active  men  to  be  our  mates  and  fellows  in  destiny,  there  now  remains 
for  you,  my  beloved  friends,  by  way  of  termination,  a  glory  higher 
than  all  the  rest,  seeing  you  find  yourselves  united  in  brotherhood 
with  princes,  kings  and  emperors.  Think  first,  Avith  blessings  and 
reverence,  of  the  imperial  wanderer  Hadrian,  who  on  foot,  at  the  head 
of  his  army,  paced  out  the  circle  of  the  world  which  was  subject  to 
him,  and  thus  in  very  deed  took  possession  of  it.  Think  then  with 
horror  of  the  conqueror,  that  armed  wanderer,  against  whom  no  resist- 
ance availed,  no  wall  or  bulwark  could  shelter  armed  nations.  In  fine, 
accompany  with  honest  sympathy  those  hapless  exiled  princes,  who, 
descending  from  the  summit  of  the  height,  cannot  even  be  received 
into  the  modest  guild  of  active  wanderers. 

"  And  now  while  we  call  forth  and  illustrate  all  this  to  one  another, 
no  narrow  despondency,  no  passionate  perversion  can  rule  over  us. 
The  time  is  past  when  people  rushed  forth  at  random  into  the  wide 
world  :  by  the  labors  of  scientific  travelers  describing  wisely  and 
copying  like  artists,  we  have  become  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the 
earth,  to  know  moderately  well  what  is  to  be  looked  for  everywhere. 

"  Yet,  for  obtaining  perfect  infonnation  an  individual  will  not 
suffice.  Our  society  is  founded  on  the  iirinciple  that  each  in  his 
degree,  for  his  purposes,  be  thoroughly  informed.  Has  any  one  of 
us  some  country  in  his  eye,  towards  which  his  wishes  are  tending, 
we  endeavor  to  make  clear  to  him,  in  special  detail,  what  was  hover- 
ing before  his  imagination  as  a  whole  ;  to  afford  each  other  a  survey 
of  the  inhabited  and  inhabitable  world,  is  a  most  pleasant  and  most 
profitable  kind  of  conversation. 


596  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

"  Under  this  aspect,  we  can  look  upon  ourselves  as  members  of  a 
union  belonging  to  the  world.  Simple  and  grand  is  the  thought ; 
easy  is  its  execution  by  understanding  and  strength.  Unity  is  all- 
powerful  ;  no  division,  therefore,  no  contention  among  us  1  Let  a 
man  learn,  we  say,  to  figure  himself  as  without  permanent  external 
relation  ;  let  him  seek  consistency  and  sequence  not  in  circumstances 
but  in  himself  ;  there  will  he  find  it  ;  there  let  him  cherish  and 
nourish  it.  He  who  devotes  himself  to  the  most  needful  will  in  all 
cases  advance  to  his  purpose  with  greatest  certainty  ;  others,  again, 
aiming  at  the  higher,  the  more  delicate,  require  greater  prudence 
even  in  the  choice  of  their  path.  But  let  a  man  be  attempting  or 
treating  what  he  will,  he  is  not,  as  an  individual,  sufficient  for  him- 
self ;  and  to  an  honest  mind  society  remains  the  highest  want.  All' 
serviceable  persons  ought  to  be  related  with  each  other,  as  the  build- 
ing proprietor  looks  out  for  an  architect,  and  the  architect  for  masons 
and  carpenters. 

"  How  and  on  what  principle  this  union  of  ours  has  been  fixed  and 
founded  is  known  to  all.  There  is  no  man  among  us  who  at  any 
moment  could  not  to  proper  purpose  employ  his  faculty  of  action  ; 
who  is  not  assured  that  in  all  places,  whither  chance,  inclination, 
or  even  passion  may  conduct  him,  he  will  be  received,  employed, 
assisted,  nay,  in  adverse  accidents,  as  far  as  possible,  refitted  and 
indemnified. 

"Two  duties  we  have  most  rigorously  undertaken  :  first,  to  honor 
every  species  of  religious  worship,  for  all  of  them  are  comprehended 
more  or  less  directly  in  the  creed  :  secondly,  in  like  manner  to 
respect  all  forms  of  government ;  and  since  every  one  of  them 
induces  and  promotes  a  calculated  activity,  to  labor  according  to  the 
wish  and  will  of  constituted  authorities,  in  whatever  place  it  may  be 
our  lot  to  sojourn,  and  for  whatever  time.  Finally,  we  reckon  it  our 
duty,  without  pedantry  or  rigor,  to  practice  and  forward  decorum  of 
manners  and  morals,  as  required  by  that  reverence  for  ourselves 
which  arises  from  the  three  reverences  :  whereto  we  universally 
profess  our  adherence  ;  having  all  had  the  joy  and  good  fortune, 
some  of  us  from  youth  upwards,  to  be  initiated  likewise  in  the  higher 
general  wisdom  taught  in  certain  cases  by  those  venerable  men.  All 
this,  in  the  solemn  hour  of  parting,  we  have  thought  good  once  more 
to  recount,  to  unfold,  to  hear  and  acknowledge,  as  also  to  seal  with  a 
trustful  farewell. 

Keep  not  standing  fix'd  and  rooted 

Briskly  venture,  briskly  roam  ! 
Head  and  hand,  where'er  thou  foot  it. 

And  stout  heart  are  still  at  home. 
In  each  land  the  sun  does  visit 

We  are  gay  whate'er  betide  ; 
To  give  space  for  wand'ring  is  it 

That  the  world  was  made  so  wide." 

THE  END, 


»f35KE«?»Ei;Kf*»^««iSS:S^-*^' 


CENTRAL  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
University  of  California,  San  Diego 

DATE  DUE 


^EB  21  1975 


FEB  18 

MAY  1  3  1 


MAY 


P  1 


msL 


MAn9]977 


^^^^  ^  I.Atffl' 


.1UN16  1977' 


JONl^ig?? 


'>^N  14  1300 


PEC  1 1  1979 


MAR  i  1 138! 


MAR  1  6  1981 


JUN  16  1982 

JUN15 

I?  ^  J 

CT  fl  4  ^983 


3 


^ 


C/39 


f  £B  2  4  1^84 


JUN  •:'  9  1984 


I^AY  2  7  i3g3 


JUN  1  5  1988   RecTD 


JUN  201988 


^^C\UTf., 


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t/CSD  Libr. 


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